


An Ephemeral Interlude

by sensational_legislational



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Castle Oblivion related shenanigans, M/M, Pining, Vanitas remembers his past life as Ventus, oh also vanitas talks to darkness, quick read this before union updates and makes this canonically impossible, that could be canon right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensational_legislational/pseuds/sensational_legislational
Summary: Even a being of pure darkness misses his old best friends. One lonely night, Vanitas makes his way to the one place that can make even the faintest memories real - Castle Oblivion.
Relationships: Ephemer/Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter was originally intended to be a oneshot, but as it turns out, I just kept going. In the future, I may come back and edit this first chapter to fit the tone of the work better. In the meantime, read it as it is before that happens! Or don't. Whatever.

Darkness swirled around the void where Castle Oblivion lay. Its jagged edges pierced the cold nothingness in the air, a warning for all who would enter it. A place of memory, but a place of such terrible loss. A place of rest and a place of restlessness. Castle Oblivion was a place for broken halves.

Of course, no half was as broken as Vanitas.

He closed the castle doors behind him, barring him from the restless Unversed outside. A hollow silence overcame the room, closing in like the overpowering darkness that Vanitas was so familiar with. But the room itself held no darkness, save its single occupant. Its air was of overwhelming neutrality. Vanitas felt his skin crawl.

He had seen its walls, of course. He had walked its halls as confidently as if it was his own home. He had traced his gloved hand along its white stone. When the castle was tall and proud, so was Vanitas. But after so long, the building itself had forgotten its past.

Vanitas, on the other hand, had not.

Despite his obvious connections, he had never been taught the workings of Castle Oblivion. It had never been necessary for him to find himself where his sleeping half lay so close. But Vanitas knew that he couldn’t find him, even if he tried. His master had taught him that much. No, the light he sought was a different light. One that wouldn’t drown him. A precious light, from far in the past.

Vanitas couldn’t have known how to recover memories. But his darkness knew the way, as it always did. It told him to look. Listen.

These corridors are full of shadow, it said.

Anywhere that is obscured, you may follow.

Vanitas frowned.

Then he looked. Listened.

Doors appeared around the room, or maybe they were always there. Vanitas felt a pull towards one, almost magnetic in nature.

The past lies just beyond that door. It is what you seek.

Vanitas didn’t hesitate to obey his darkness. Head held high, he reached out and held the doorknob like a precious glass bulb.

Don’t be afraid.

Your power is far greater than your past.

\--

Vanitas stifled the swelling of his heart at the sight of the familiar fountain. The flagstones in the plaza reflected the blue light in the sky. Old-fashioned buildings lined the square, in the friendly style that he remembered so fondly. The clock chimed noon, the sound ringing through the town and reaching every ear.

He felt a shrinking sensation.

He remembered this world without darkness.

No, he corrected himself. Not without darkness. Just without Vanitas.

A better world, really.

Midday. Every keyblade wielder should be training somewhere outside the plaza. The Unions would all be busy with their activities, and the town should be pleasantly quiet. All was still, except for the light, warm breeze and the occasional Chirithy passing by on an errand. Vanitas swallowed. It was the perfect day to miss practice.

Hesitantly, Vanitas identified the plaza’s exits. In his mind, he traced each one to the streets and alleys beyond. Some he could not clearly recall. Some led to the common paths of forgotten comrades. He remembered the route he took home every night before the war. Some scenes still lingered, but none so vivid as those of his dearest friends.

Nothing gripped his heart so crushingly as those memories he had clung to so desperately. Friends. Those people who had been so kind to him, even if he didn't belong with them. Those people who cared for him. Who loved him.

Vanitas clenched his hands into fists, feeling a wave of apprehension consume him. Suddenly, he couldn't bear to think of seeing the very person he had been seeking moments before.

_ Ephemer. _

Ephemer, the fearless leader. Ephemer, the formidable warrior. Ephemer, the beacon of kindness and light. The object of admiration. The perfect companion to Ventus.

The very antithesis of Vanitas.

Beneath his helmet, Vanitas felt a teardrop work its way to the bottom of his chin. Unable to move himself to the shadows, he stood in the open. In this moment of paralyzed hesitation, despite all that Vanitas was feeling, the unthinkable happened.

_ He _ walked into view, silver hair bobbing in the breeze, chin buried in a soft scarf. He wore a slight smile, like someone who had snuck out of keyblade practice to meet a friend. His skin was soft. His eyes, full of light. Though he hadn’t spoken, Vanitas knew his voice was like a soft rainfall, therapeutic and transfixing.

In that moment, Vanitas lost all of himself.

“Someone’s slacking again,” Vanitas said to his old friend.

Ephemer startled a little. “Uh… yeah. How did you know?” He cracked an uneasy smile.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Vanitas said, approaching enthusiastically. He breezed past the fountain, almost breaking into a run at the sight of his beloved friend. He took off his helmet, not even stopping to think.

“Whoa,” said Ephemer, startled by the intensity of those unfamiliar golden eyes as they approached him. “Hello. Are you a new trainee?”

Vanitas.

“What? No! You don’t recognize your buddy?” Vanitas said, louder than he intended. He felt his eyes begin to fill with stinging tears.

You have forgotten yourself.

“Umm…” Ephemer said, wincing. “Sorry, I don’t?”

Remember your power.

“I’m…” Vanitas began to double over, forcing the words out. Ephemer had to know.

“Are you… crying?” Hesitantly, Ephemer placed a hand on Vanitas’ shoulder.

“I’m V-”

Enough.

\--

The illusion dissolved into a dark cloud.

Vanitas collapsed, chest bursting with dark mist. His lips curled above his teeth as he trembled on the floor. His fists met Castle Oblivion’s cold tiles, defying the will of his own darkness. He felt a vaporous chill seep between his teeth. He opened his mouth to scream in frustration, and with that scream came a fountain of darkness, bursting onto the floor and dissipating into the air.

Do not defy us, Vanitas.

He felt every ounce of warmth being sapped from him. Every muscle in his body clenched, Vanitas brought himself to a kneel. His lungs pumped in and out, clearing the dark mist from his body. Scowling, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Stop it.”

You are a being of darkness.

“I want… to see him.”

He will not recognize you.

“I don’t care.”

This will not grow your power.

Vanitas gave a frustrated shout, pushing himself onto his feet. “You’re the one who’s holding me back!” His eyes darted around the room, having nothing to lock onto. “You want me to grow my power? Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll show you my power.”

Vanitas concentrated his willpower on the thing he wanted the most. A void in the dark mist began to form on the floor, revealing a patch of gleaming white tile.

I will never truly leave you, Vanitas. You and I are the same.

Slowly, steadily, the mist dispersed.

Vanitas sighed, no dark clouds emitting from his mouth. Collecting himself, he located his helmet. It lay a few paces away, passively reflecting the well-lit room. Vanitas walked the short distance and grasped it. As he slid it back over his head, he felt his composure returning.

“This time, I’ll get it right.”

\--

Ephemer’s shoes made a soft sound on the flagstones in Daybreak Town.

“Someone’s slacking again,” said Vanitas, sitting on the edge of the fountain. It made the perfect waiting place, just as it always had.

Ephemer startled at the unexpected voice, doing a double take at the figure in red and black.

“Uh… yeah. How did you know?” Ephemer’s smile brought warmth to Vanitas’ hidden face.

“I’m… very observant.” Vanitas shifted in his seat, taking his eyes off the boy he had struggled for so long to see.

“So…” Ephemer began, approaching Vanitas cautiously. “What’s the helmet for?” 

“Hmm.” Vanitas thought for a moment, trying not to recall his last attempt. Reaching a decision, he held a finger in front of his face. “That’s my little secret.”

“That’s fair, I guess.” Ephemer shrugged. “Are you a new trainee?” Vanitas tried not to react with familiarity as Ephemer took a seat next to him.

“No. An old one.” Vanitas shook his head. “I guess,” he added.

Ephemer’s eyes widened. “You’re already a keyblade master?”

Vanitas couldn’t help but give a little laugh. “Yeah. Wanna see?”

“Sure!”

Vanitas extended his hand and summoned his keyblade. Ephemer covered his open mouth in awe.

“So cool!”

Vanitas extended his arm, letting Ephemer gently touch the keyblade’s cold surface. As he observed Ephemer’s gentle hand, Vanitas blinked and looked away. “This blade’s come a long way. You should have seen my first one.”

Ephemer looked up at Vanitas with that gaze that could pierce through any helmet. “Okay. Now you’ve  _ gotta _ tell me. Who are you?”

Vanitas froze, afraid to act under Ephemer’s careful watch. Still, his non-dominant hand clenched and unclenched.

“...Why should I tell you?”

“‘Cause I asked.”

That answer was too fast. Vanitas felt his heartbeat accelerate.

“I’m... someone you know. Very well.” This was a very bad idea.

Ephemer frowned in confusion. “What?”

“Never mind. Forget it.” Vanitas gave up, saying the words in a discontented sigh. He inched away from Ephemer. “I’m nobody.”

Ephemer gave no verbal answer. If he made an expression, Vanitas couldn’t tell. His head was already turned away in shame.

He felt something grasp the back of his head.

Before he could reach up, his helmet slipped over his head, ruffling the tangled hair beneath. Vanitas whirled around and caught Ephemer’s eye.

Ephemer clutched the helmet nervously.

Then he exhaled, shoulders slumping.

“Yeah. You’re not him. Sorry.”


	2. Chapter 2

You are foolish, Vanitas.

Vanitas sat in the cool shade, shielding himself from the garish brightness of the blue sky. Even just a street away from the plaza, nobody would find him there.

You knew this would happen.

The darkness’ voice was quieter there inside the memory, but far from inaudible. Vanitas gave no reply, staring forward with itchy eyes.

You have to let go.

Vanitas lowered his head into his folded arms.

“I can’t. It’s the only thing I have.”

Silently, Vanitas stared at the tightly-fit cobblestones. He felt the darkness within him settle, as if waiting for him to finish sulking. Maybe it was right in doing so. Maybe, Vanitas thought, it was time to go back.

You are correct. There is nothing for you here.

Vanitas lifted his head and sighed. Being in Castle Oblivion for so long couldn’t be good for his health. He lifted himself onto his feet, feeling as if his bones were made of heavy stone. This brought his face into the sunlight, which shone blindingly through his helmet. He squinted, instinctively bringing an arm up to shield his eyes. Even in a memory, the light made him want to shrink and fade away.

And yet… that same sensation begged him to stay.

It is as you thought, Vanitas. If you stay, your health will suffer.

Vanitas felt like laughing as he reflected on that thought. “Since when do I care about my health?”

Your power-

“Oh, shut up.” Vanitas, in a wave of spite, stepped out into the full sunlight. Beneath his suit, he felt his skin crawl. His pulse accelerated. The darkness quieted. Beside him, the buildings seemed to loom over him. For a moment, Vanitas’ basest instincts commanded him to retreat into shadow again. The next moment, however, was a moment of some sick catharsis.

Maybe, just for a moment, Vanitas could spend more time in this Vanitas-free world.

Although the buildings lining the streets were considerably tall, they proved no challenge to a proficient keyblade wielder. Vanitas required no footholds. He scaled the pale brick wall swiftly, and landed just above the purple eave. The shingles below his feet were pleasantly solid and silent as he made his way to the peak of the roof.

The great open sky spread before him, obstructed only by the clock tower that rose from the center of town. Below, a sea of purple roofs, all uniform in color but differing in shape. The plaza was closest below, its starry pattern most apparent from the high vantage point. The fountain sparkled with its usual splendor as a single person sat on its edge. Vanitas felt something in his chest shrivel as he noted the person’s sweeping silver hair.

Right. The reason he was hiding. Instinctively, Vanitas laid low onto the roof, pressing his chest onto the opposite side of the roof from the plaza. Still, he kept his head above the peak, eyes fixed on Ephemer.

Vanitas recalled the events he had experienced before. At the beginning of the memory, he would linger in the plaza for a while. Then Ephemer would enter. Gazing at the boy from the roof, it became apparent that his intention was to sit on the fountain. Why? Was Ephemer meeting someone? Vanitas squinted, trying to make out the details of Ephemer’s body language. No, the fountain’s tall stem obscured his view too much. He had to get a better view.

Keeping an eye on Ephemer, Vanitas made his way along the perimeter of the plaza. Careful of his poor color camouflage, he kept a low profile. As he turned to scale another wall, he caught a glimpse of another figure in the plaza. Leaping to the top, he scrambled to get a look. The person was small, clothed mostly in pink and white. Again, the fountain blocked the full view of the person. However, Vanitas caught a sure glimpse of a silver mask and fox ears.

_ Master Ava _ ? Vanitas thought. He turned his eyes back toward Ephemer. He was smiling and laughing, talking to her like a close friend.

Vanitas didn’t know they were friends.

Creeping more toward the left, Vanitas kept his eyes fixated on the two. Master Ava. That must have been the person Ephemer was waiting for. Vanitas supposed that they must have spoken at some point. He was a Dandelion, after all. But why now? What didn’t he know? Vanitas took another step toward the left.

He hit something soft.

“Oh, excuse me,” said a quiet voice. Vanitas looked, slightly alarmed to find someone on the rooftops like this. Beside him stood a girl, dressed in ribbons and lace. Her red hair was pulled behind her head in two ponytails, and her eyes were wide with surprise and concern.

“I…” She brought one hand to her chest. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Vanitas blinked at the girl, feeling no tug of recognition. “I’ve never seen you either.”

“Are you…” The girl looked at Vanitas’ strange armor. “What union are you in?”

Vanitas paused. “Anguis,” he said, recalling one on the spot.

“Oh,” the girl said, relaxing a little. “I’m from Vulpes.”

“... Cool,” said Vanitas, looking back at Ephemer.

Silence.

“Umm,” the girl said, “it’s a better view on the other side.”

“I don’t want to be seen, thanks. Go ahead.”

She climbed over the peak of the roof and onto the side facing the plaza. “It’s okay, though. Nobody really thinks to look up.” Vanitas looked over at the girl again. She was seated at a spot where a window jutted out of the roof. She looked comfortable, plus she clearly had a great view.

“How do you know?” Vanitas asked, beginning to climb over anyway.

“I come here often.” The girl looked down, holding her arms across her middle.

“Oh,” Vanitas settled in. Ephemer laughed below, sending goosebumps up Vanitas’ arms. “Why is that?”

The girl looked below, then back at Vanitas. “Same thing as you, I think.”

Vanitas looked at her, saying nothing.

“Don’t worry,” the girl said with a sigh. “I know what it’s like, so I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks,” Vanitas muttered. He pulled up one of his legs, leaving one to dangle over the eave. He leaned forward, resting his helmeted face on one hand. He wondered what Ephemer was discussing with Ava. Dandelion stuff, probably. He vaguely remembered the same conversations he’d had in his other life. Responsibilities, the end of the world, being a Union leader, really everything he’d rather forget.

“Which one is your friend?” The girl asked, timidly. Vanitas, unprepared to speak, paused a little.

“... The one with the red scarf.”

“Oh. Ephemer, was it?”

“Yeah.” The girl must have thought highly of him if she suspected he was friends with a Union leader. Her mistake.

“Umm…”

“Hm?”

“This might be too personal to ask…”

Vanitas said nothing, unsure if he wanted to be asked.

“Does that,” she gestured at the conversation below, “make you jealous?”

“N-” Vanitas stopped himself halfway through the syllable. He slumped his shoulders and leaned back. It felt wrong to tell a lie to her, even if she was a complete stranger.

She sighed. “I’ve felt the same way.” She paused. “It feels… bad. To feel like you don’t want that person to have fun without you.”

Vanitas watched as Ephemer laughed heartily, almost tipping back into the fountain.

“But you know that it’s just your own problem,” the girl continued. “Like you could be there with them if you wanted. But you’re just...”

Ephemer sighed, looking up into the sky with his eyes closed and his smile wide.

“... Afraid.” 

Vanitas tensed up as the girl finished the sentence. Unexpectedly, he felt a tear trace down his face.

“Oh,” the girl said, blushing. “I’m talking about myself now…” She looked at Vanitas, expecting him to say something. “I don’t even know anything about you yet.”

Vanitas turned his head toward her, thankful she couldn’t see his tears.

“So, can you tell me your name?”

“... Only if you tell me yours first.”

“Sorry,” said the girl, realizing she hadn’t observed a traditional introduction. “I’m Strelitzia.”

Vanitas knew that name.

_ Oh, no. _

“Well?” Strelitzia asked, responding to Vanitas’ silence.

“I’m sorry…”

“Oh…” She looked disappointed. “You can’t tell me.”

“No, I…”

In the corner of his eye, Vanitas spotted Ephemer. He was walking out of the plaza, toward the clock tower. Master Ava had left.

Strelitzia saw him too.

“Oh, I see.” She looked down at the purple shingles. “You should follow him.”

“... Yeah.” Vanitas stood up, mentally mapping his route to Ephemer.

“Goodbye, then,” said Strelitzia.

Vanitas took a few steps, then hesitated. He turned toward Strelitzia.

“My name is Vanitas. It was good to meet you.”

Her face lit up a little. “Thank you… Vanitas.”

Vanitas nodded, then sprinted off across the rooftops.


	3. Chapter 3

Vanitas tracked Ephemer along a path all too familiar. Even from above, the street was easily recognizable to him. After all, he must have walked the same route a thousand times. A left turn, then a right turn. A long stretch, a tall lamp post, then another left turn. Vanitas watched as Ephemer repeated these steps exactly as he had. With mounting anxiety, he began to realize Ephemer’s destination more with each navigational choice. He was about to pay a visit to a friend who, by the nature of this imagined world, could not exist.

In a single bounding leap, Vanitas crossed over to the other side of the street. His feet met the opposite roof with the lightest touch he could muster, wary of Ephemer’s range of hearing. Thankfully, the faint footsteps drew no attention. Ephemer’s gaze was fixed upon the front of the building, not the roof.

Vanitas slid his way down to a platform just below, fenced off and lined with pristine flower beds. Out of habit, he gazed out into the city. The view was, of course, lovely. Everything in Daybreak Town was lovely. Even here, on the balcony of a cheap, third-floor home, the wrought-iron fencing was perfectly crafted and the flowers were perfectly tended. Vanitas recalled that every day, the house’s single tenant would come to check these flowers.

Behind him, a door lay slightly open, exposing the interior. For all the care he put into the flowers outside, the tenant never locked his doors. Vanitas contemplated entering. Before long, Ephemer would make his way to the third floor. He would find it empty. He would leave. The outcome would be predictable, yet Vanitas felt drawn to it. 

He had to see it. Even if it was just to see what Ephemer thought of Ventus.

Vanitas stepped cautiously through the balcony door into the place he had once called home. With a roof overhead, Vanitas felt his dark powers swell.

You have spent too long in the light.

Vanitas exhaled in annoyance, eyes darting around the room. “Is that all you have to say?”

The darkness did not respond. Vanitas sighed, feeling the melancholy of a dead life dripping into his heart. Yes, the room was exactly how he remembered. Nothing new, nothing surprising. Just like everything else in this town.

Vanitas heard footsteps approaching the front door. Instinctively, Vanitas darted to a corner of the room.

Foolish Vanitas. Always hiding.

Ephemer knocked at the door. “Ventus?” His voice was muffled, but distinctive.

“Do you have any other suggestions?” Vanitas hissed. “I’d  _ love _ to hear them.” 

Outside the door, Ephemer shuffled his feet a little. He gave another set of knocks, a little louder than before. “Ventus, are you home?”

With your power, it would be easy for you to overcome this illusion.

Vanitas scoffed. “You can’t fool me. All you want is to get me out of here.”

Ephemer let himself in, as he always did. “Ventus? I didn’t see you at practice today.” 

If you want to hide, you’d best do it now.

Holding his breath, Vanitas slipped into the poorly-lit pantry and partially closed the door. Vanitas recalled the struggle he once had in differentiating foods in the dark room. No daylight would find him there. 

Ephemer walked the length of the main room, checking the spots his friend used to favor. “Is someone there? I thought I heard talking.” Though his face wasn’t visible, his voice carried a note of concern.

Vanitas remained silent.

Ephemer paced the kitchen area, checking under the table and out on the balcony. He approached the pantry door and opened it, finding nothing but semi-full shelves. As he glanced through the pantry, Vanitas caught a glimpse of the worry in Ephemer’s eyes. His heart sank, becoming heavier than the darkness that cloaked him.

Ephemer closed the pantry door softly, then took a seat in one of Ventus’ dining chairs. Sighing, he rested his elbows on the table and held his clasped hands in front of his lips. Although his thoughts remained unheard, Vanitas could tell what they were. Ephemer was doing what he always did when faced with a challenge. He would find a quiet place and think. Through the slits in the door, Vanitas could see the familiar glaze over his friend’s eyes. He knew that even through all his worry, Ephemer would think of a rational solution.

Vanitas marveled at Ephemer’s resolve. Even before he had the responsibilities of a Union leader, Ephemer had always been so good at thinking things through. He had been the perfect leader, if even just to Ventus. Vanitas couldn't help but feel touched. Ephemer was going through all this trouble for  _ him. _

No, not him. Ventus.

A scuffling noise on the balcony drew the attention of Ephemer and Vanitas. Both turned to look at the creature that had appeared there. It had the appearance of a dark, bipedal rabbit, angular and hunched over. Its agitated movements were frightening to Ephemer, but unmistakable to Vanitas.

_ Unversed? _ , Vanitas thought, posing a wordless question to the darkness.

Of course. Aren’t you going to save that boy?

Ephemer leapt to his feet, summoning his keyblade instinctively. He fixed his eyes on the strange creature, his chest visibly expanding and contracting.

_ He’s fine. I have a better idea. _ Vanitas watched intently, waiting for his opportunity. The Unversed outside twitched, taking notice of the nearby threat. Ephemer slowly advanced, gaining confidence on his feet. He turned toward the outside door, his back to the pantry.

Vanitas slipped out of the pantry, silent as a shadow. Taking no time to watch Ephemer triumph, he hurried down the hall and to the exit.

I see you haven’t lost your touch.

Vanitas didn’t bother replying, as he was still in earshot. He dashed through the exit and started down the stairs.

Leaving the boy to suffer instead of commanding the Unversed away.

Vanitas exhaled softly. “He’s not suffering. He’s a keyblade wielder. How did an Unversed get in here anyway?”

You produced quite a number out there, hiding in the shadows.

“What?” Vanitas reached the bottom of the stairs, feeling a splash of irritation flow back into him. About a Flood’s worth. With this, he felt a separate rush of satisfaction at Ephemer’s victory.

You wanted to forget about those emotions, so the castle did the rest for you. Did the Master teach you nothing?

Vanitas recalled Master Xehanort’s lecture on Castle Oblivion. He had mentioned that it had the power to change memories, even important ones if he wasn’t careful.

To find is to lose and to lose is to find.

“Yeah. I remember that part.” Vanitas rushed out from the street door, making sure to close it behind him. He gave a small sigh. “Whatever that means.”

Vanitas now stood in sunlight. He felt his dark strength cower within him, leaving only his borrowed body in the open. Once, he had lived like this. He repeated this in his mind, hoping it could shield that memory from erasure. Once, he was light and dark. Once, he belonged here.

Vanitas startled as he heard the door open behind him.

“You!” Ephemer shouted, spotting the unfamiliar figure. “Did you see any strange creatures come this way?”

Vanitas froze.

Ephemer closed the door behind him as he approached Vanitas. “Umm…” he said, squinting at Vanitas’ armor and helmet. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m… new.” Vanitas began, suddenly conscious of his own lack of preparedness.

“New, huh?” Ephemer relaxed a little, his expression softening. “Good. It’s nice to see that there’s more of us every day.”

“What was that?” Vanitas said. “About the creatures, I mean.”

“Oh,” Ephemer said, remembering his message. “I just saw some strange new Heartless on top of that building.” He gestured behind him, looking up at where the balcony would be on the other side. “It wasn’t strong, but it didn’t drop any Lux.”

“An Unversed,” said Vanitas, forming a story for himself.

Ephemer looked at him quizzically. “You know about them?”

“I’m an expert on them. I’m here to hunt them down.” Vanitas felt like congratulating himself on his genius.

Ephemer’s eyes widened a little. “Oh, so you’re  _ that _ kind of new.” He cracked a smile. “You’re specialized. Kinda like me.”

Vanitas caught himself staring at the familiar shine of Ephemer’s teeth. “Yeah,” he said.

“Well… good luck on your mission.” Ephemer rubbed the back of his neck. He turned away from Vanitas, but not before he glimpsed Ephemer’s subtle thinking expression.

“Thanks,” said Vanitas, preparing to retreat out of sight again.

“Oh, wait,” Ephemer said, looking back at Vanitas and grinning. “Do you need a hand?”

Vanitas tilted his head. “Huh?”

“At hunting the Un-whatever. It might be a special mission, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get friends to help you, right?”

“The Unversed. And I don’t normally...” Vanitas stopped himself. Yes, denial would keep him hidden, but he’d built the perfect cover already. Shouldn’t he take advantage of the moment?

“It’s okay if you don’t…” Ephemer sheepishly said. “I just wanna learn a little more about-”

“Actually, it’ll be fine,” Vanitas said, looking away from Ephemer. “As long as you don’t tell anyone else.”

Ephemer smiled, then winked. “Don’t tell anyone outside the party. Gotcha.”

Vanitas found himself caught off guard. That’s right. Ephemer  _ was _ in a party. Ventus was in it, too. And those other friends he had known so briefly. How long had it been?

“Then it’s settled!” Ephemer announced. “I’ll take you to the party gathering. You can tell us what to do. Then we’ll help you out.” Ephemer began walking up the street, expecting Vanitas to follow.

“Quick decision,” Vanitas muttered, amused. He followed Ephemer, keeping in the sunlight.

“So,” Ephemer started, predictably. “What are the Unversed? Are they the same as Heartless?”

“They’re made of emotions,” Vanitas said, rehearsing his usual explanation. “So they’re drawn to people’s negative emotions. If someone feels unhappy, the Unversed will run straight to them.”

Ephemer frowned, committing the information to memory. “Hmm… so, whose emotions are they made of?”

Vanitas paused. “We don’t know yet, but it’s someone specific.”

Ephemer pressed a hand to his lips in silent thought. “... A Foreteller?”

“No, not anyone that high up. We’re… working on it.”

“I see,” Ephemer slowed his pace subconsciously, and Vanitas slowed down with him. 

Ephemer blinked, remembering a new question. “So… what’s the helmet for?”

Vanitas sighed, a little irritated. “That’s a secret.”

“Aww, really?” Ephemer said. “No fair…”

“That’s the way it is,” Vanitas said, shrugging. “Secrets run the world. The less you know, the better off you are.”

Ephemer faked a laugh. “Heh. You remind me of another friend I have. He doesn’t like it when I poke around, either.”

“Oh,” said Vanitas, unsure how to respond.

“I think he wants me safe,” sighed Ephemer. “I don’t blame him. I want to be safe, too.” Ephemer looked into Vanitas’ eyes. “But I also want to  _ know _ .”

Vanitas blinked, feeling some strange tension in his chest. “Know what?”

“I dunno,” said Ephemer, quickening his pace again. “That’s what I want to find out.”

The familiarity of Ephemer’s attitude struck a chord with Vanitas. Defiant, but not angry. Curious, but not overbearing. Within himself, he could feel a swirling cocktail of bittersweetness. Nevertheless, it was enough to bear. Vanitas ignored it in an effort to prevent it from becoming an Unversed.

“Oh... by the way…” Ephemer looked at Vanitas again, his expression a little sad. “It was probably me that attracted that Unversed. I thought maybe you should know, being the expert and everything.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Vanitas said. “It happens all the time.”

“Well… I think I have to worry about it this time,” Ephemer said, kicking the pavement with his next step. “I guess you’ll know once I tell it to the party, but… my friend’s gone missing. And I don’t know what to do.”

Vanitas clenched and unclenched his hand nervously. “Have you reported it to someone?”

“No,” Ephemer said. “I just found out. Besides…”

“You don’t want any Union leaders knowing?” Vanitas’ answer was just a guess, but by the way Ephemer’s expression lit up, it was correct.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right.”

Vanitas said nothing.

Ephemer turned his eyes to the ground. “I’m going to get help from my friends. They’re his friends, too. We’ll look for him and find him. I’m sure we will.”

“You sound like you’re really worried about him,” said Vanitas, a bit selfishly.

“Of course I’m worried about him. He’s my friend. If I had gone missing, he would worry about me, too.”

“Of course,” said Vanitas. That was how friendship worked, back when he had it. It had been so long, Vanitas had almost forgotten the sweetness of selfless worry.

“So…” Ephemer said, “I hope that helps you track them down. The Unversed, I mean.”

“Yeah. I, uh… hope your friend is okay.”

“So do I,” said Ephemer in a half-whisper.

The two approached a crossroads in the heart of the city. One street lay parallel to the path of the sun, the other perpendicular. The buildings rising high around the streets stood with pride in their spots, their exterior corners cut flat to form a neat diamond around the intersection. In the clearing, several figures of various heights were talking and laughing. Each was dressed differently, all wielding keyblades.

“There’s my party,” said Ephemer. Vanitas watched the light creep back into Ephemer’s eyes. “I’ll introduce you!”

Ephemer took a step forward, then stopped himself. “Wait…” he looked at Vanitas again. “What did you say your name was?”

Vanitas stiffened, mustering the courage to tell the truth.

“Vanitas.”

Ephemer smiled. “Nice to meet you, Vanitas. I’m Ephemer.”


	4. Chapter 4

As he approached the gathering of people, Vanitas began to recognize friends he had long since forgotten.

Five people chatted peacefully in the crossroads. In a cluster of three stood two tall, light-haired teens towering over a shorter and paler friend. The tall ones each wore decorative wings, one with shimmering fairy wings and the other with smaller batlike wings. The other wore green overalls and a matching hat, decorated to resemble a cartoonish frog.

The two other figures spoke more gregariously, their speech audibly louder. One wore chin-length, blue-green hair and bore a silvery keyblade. The other was a girl in a pleated skirt adorned with studded belts. Her dark jacket and boots coordinated perfectly, and her eyes shimmered with a gentle intensity Vanitas envied.

Out of all these former friends, Vanitas was ashamed to only remember the name of one.

“Hey, Ephemer!” Skuld shouted, waving to Ephemer. The others turned their heads to their returned companion, all except the tall, bat-winged boy.

“It’s Ephemer!” the pale one enthused, drawing the boy’s attention and causing him to remove his purple headphones.

Ephemer ran a few paces ahead of Vanitas. “Hi, guys! Am I late?”

“Not by much,” said Skuld, glancing over Ephemer’s shoulder. “Who’s your friend?”

Vanitas stiffened as the whole party turned their eyes to him.

“That’s Vanitas,” Ephemer cheerfully proclaimed. “I found him on the way here.”

“Hey,” Vanitas said, moving his arm stiffly in some sort of greeting. He approached the group, racking his brain for memories of each member.

“Whoa,” said the tallest member, their amber eyes wide in curiosity. “Are you from Leopardus, too?”

“No, I’m… not in a Union.” Vanitas spoke distractedly, equally from the new social pressure and from the effort of recalling their personalities. The person speaking to Vanitas now was gentle and aloof. They weren’t the first to leave the party, but Vanitas’ memory of them was hazy at best.

“Huh? Isn’t everyone in a Union?” said the green-haired one. They were always the brains of the team, but never the leader.

“Nope,” said Ephemer, quick to correct falsehoods. “Vanitas is actually an expert on Unversed.”

“Unversed? What’s that?” asked the boy with the purple headphones. Vanitas didn’t know him for very long, but his presence was distinct in Vanitas’ memory. He was clever in comedy, but little else.

“That’s what we’re going to discuss before we head out today,” Ephemer explained. “Is everyone here?”

“Ventus isn’t here yet,” reported Skuld.

Vanitas’ eyes darted over to Ephemer, anticipating the same look of worry he had expressed alone. Instead, Ephemer smiled and chuckled.

“Actually, that’s another thing I wanted to bring up.” Ephemer glanced around to see if everyone was listening. “I… couldn’t find Ventus anywhere.”

“Maybe he’s late today,” said the purple-headphones boy.

“No, that’s not it,” said Ephemer. “I went to his house and he wasn’t there.”

“Oh no,” muttered the boy in the frog hat. At this closer range, Vanitas noticed his large blue eyes. He remembered those eyes on him frequently, being on the receiving end of his friendly charm for a time.

“It’s okay,” Ephemer reassured. “There’s a good chance we’ll find him when we go out today. He’s got to be somewhere, right?”

“But why would Ventus be in Agrabah…?” Skuld half-whispered.

“Well,” Ephemer said, “I was hoping we could change our plans for today.”

Skuld raised an eyebrow. “I’m assuming this has to do with your new friend?”

Ephemer chuckled. “Yeah. You’re in charge, though. We don’t have to change anything if you don’t want to.”

“Well, let’s at least hear what he has to say,” said Skuld. “It’s probably a perfectly good reason.” She looked at Vanitas expectedly, attempting to make eye contact through his helmet.

“Right,” said Vanitas. “I’m, uh… here to hunt down a new type of creature that’s been spotted around town. They’re called the Unversed.” He glanced over at Ephemer, who nodded encouragingly. “They can take lots of forms, but they’re all attracted to negative emotions. They’re about as strong as Heartless, so none of you should have problems taking them down.”

“So... they’re not Heartless?” the green-haired person asked.

“Yeah. I mean, no. They’re not made the same way. And they don’t drop Lux.” The group regarded Vanitas with confused looks, some looking over at Ephemer for an explanation.

“What Vanitas is proposing,” Ephemer said, picking up Vanitas’ slack, “is that we help him track down and eliminate the Unversed.” Some members of the group nodded, seeming to understand.

“Sounds interesting,” Skuld said.

“Wait,” said one of the members. “I still don’t understand. So we’re supposed to hunt these creatures? What do they even look like?” The person who spoke was the tall boy with the headphones. He appeared to be interested, but put off by his own confusion.

Ephemer took it upon himself to explain. “The one I saw was like a rabbit. It had these pointy ear things and these bright red eyes.”

“What you saw was a Flood,” said Vanitas. “There’s lots of other kinds of Unversed, but we don’t know what else is in the city. Just look for creatures that look like Heartless, but have red eyes.”

“And, while we’re at it, we can look for Ventus,” Skuld said.

“Sounds good to me,” said the boy in the frog hat. “I hope Ventus is okay.” He looked down at the ground in unease. “Do you think the Unversed got to him?”

“It’s all right,” Ephemer said. “Ventus wouldn’t be bested by a Heartless. Why would an Unversed be any different?”

“That’s true…” said the boy. He looked back up at Ephemer and smiled. “Thanks, Ephemer.” Ephemer smiled back.

“So, are you all in?” Vanitas said, a little louder than he intended.

Skuld nodded. “If it’ll help us find our missing member, it’s fine if we miss gathering Lux for a day.” The party gave some small nods and affirming hums.

Skuld began assigning groups of two to different districts of the city. As the groups before him took their assignments, Vanitas admired the simplicity of this time. Before the party broke apart, they worked so reasonably together. They all listened to the words of their leader, but none of them were afraid to speak out. There were hardly any arguments, and none that mattered. It just happened that all seven members shared a common goal: collecting Lux for their Unions. 

Vanitas’ master would have jumped at the chance to get his hands on seven collectors of light. Yet here they were, right in front of Vanitas.

“And Ephemer,” Skuld said, reaching her last assignment. “You’ve got the southeast quarter. I’m assuming you’ll want to work with Vanitas?”

“Aww, how’d you know?” Ephemer said, patting Vanitas on the shoulder.

Vanitas, paralyzed by the touch, said nothing.

“But,” Ephemer continued, “wouldn’t that leave you alone, Skuld?”

She smiled. “Yeah, but you know I’m fine. These Unversed things are weak, right?”

“That’s true, but you deserve to work with a friend. C’mon, team up with us!”

“No, really. It’s fine.” Skuld put a hand up in reassurance. “I’ve already assigned the others to quarters instead of thirds.”

“All right,” conceded Ephemer. “But you’ve got to promise not to be lonely while I’m gone.”

Skuld laughed. “What’s gotten into you?” She looked into Ephemer’s eyes, careful to emphasize her words. “Okay. I promise.”

“Good.” Ephemer said. “You ready to go, partner?”

“Yeah,” Vanitas said, softly rubbing his shoulder.

\--

You could draw the Unversed directly to you, and yet you do not.

Vanitas realized he had stepped into a shadow, and quickly stepped out into sunlight.

“But the real question is, how do you find a sad person?” Ephemer had been talking for some time now, but Vanitas was content mostly listening. Listening and watching. “The saddest person around might be inside a building. Actually, are they more likely to be inside than outside?”

The two had been patrolling an inner street for a while. The sun was getting lower in the sky. Vanitas had to dodge shadows more frequently than before, but not so much that his concentration was broken. Of course, he kept his eyes fixed on Ephemer.

“Is that one, right over there?” Ephemer pointed to a distant object with vaguely dark and red colors. He ran ahead to get a better look at it, but Vanitas didn’t bother following.

“Nope!” Ephemer said. “It’s another flower cart!” Ephemer stood still, then walked toward Vanitas to meet up again sooner. “And no sign of Ventus, either…”

For a fraction of a second, Vanitas considered telling him.  _ No, _ Vanitas thought.  _ I don’t gain anything from that. _

Still, Vanitas couldn’t take his mind off the things that transpired in the past.

“Can you tell me more about him?” Vanitas asked.

Ephemer blinked. “About Ventus?”

“Yeah,” Vanitas said, heartbeat accelerating. “Him.”

“Well, he’s in our party. He’s blond and he has blue eyes...” Vanitas felt a wave of annoyance. Perhaps another group had successfully eliminated an Unversed somewhere.

“I know that,” Vanitas muttered.

Ephemer frowned. “You know what Ventus looks like?”

“No, I…” Vanitas made an effort to avoid stuttering. “I meant that I know he’s at your party. But I wasn’t asking about that.”

“About what?”

“What he looks like.”

Ephemer gave Vanitas a confused look, but continued. “What were you asking, then?”

Vanitas shrugged. “You were friends, right?”

“Well, we  _ are _ friends.” Ephemer smiled. “Pretty close friends. But why do you want to know?”

Vanitas took a deep breath. “Earlier, you said he wanted you to be safe. What does that mean?”

“Yeah. I guess I did say that.” Ephemer considered his response. “I mean, that’s how friendship works, right? You worry about each other.”

Vanitas knew that was a stupid question, but he had to keep going. “You’re right…”

“You... don’t have a lot of friends, do you?” Ephemer looked at Vanitas, straight into his very heart. “Oh,” he said, laughing. “That came out wrong. It’s not that you don’t look like you don’t have friends. I’m just making assumptions-”

“No, you’re right.” Vanitas said. “I had a lot of good friends once. But now…” He trailed off, not wanting to get specific.

“What happened to them?”

“Um…” Vanitas panicked, calling out to the nearest Unversed to beckon it. That would bail him out for sure.

“That’s okay,” Ephemer said. “If it’s painful to recall, then you don’t have to tell me.” He looked at Vanitas. “We  _ are _ strangers after all, right?”

“Yeah,” said Vanitas, heart sinking. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

“What’s that?” Ephemer said, missing Vanitas’ apology. His eyes locked onto a faraway object on a rooftop in front of them. About the size of a small human, it nimbly approached the two keyblade wielders. Its large claws and shining red eyes gave it the unmistakable appearance of a Scrapper.

“An Unversed,” said Vanitas. “It’s coming this way.”

“Just one?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t have any special abilities, either.”

“I’ll handle it, then.” Ephemer rushed in, giving Vanitas no time to say anything else. As he ran, he summoned his keyblade and poised it for attack. The Unversed was on the ground now, obediently running toward Vanitas. Ephemer stopped and stood his ground, waiting for the opportunity to defeat the Unversed in a single blow. The Unversed didn’t waver in its path. Ephemer wound his keyblade back, then struck the creature the moment it came within keyblade range. Immediately, it dissolved, sending a brief flash of anger back into Vanitas.

Ephemer looked back at Vanitas, a sad smile on his face. He waited until Vanitas was close before he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said, slumping his shoulders and putting away his keyblade.

“Why?”

“I did it again. I brought an Unversed to me.” Vanitas stared at him in confusion until he saw the single tear tracing Ephemer’s face, glistening in the afternoon sunlight.

Vanitas stopped in his tracks.

Ephemer sniffed. “I just miss him.” A second tear joined the first. “A lot.” He let himself down onto his knees, then sat down on the cobblestones.

Vanitas stood there in shock. Had he really gotten so bad at reading emotions over the years? When had he last seen a crying person, let alone comforted one? Unsure, he sat down beside Ephemer, a reasonable distance away.

“Sorry,” sobbed Ephemer. Vanitas considered touching him, but decided against it. “I know it’s stupid. He’s only been gone for a day, right?” Ephemer kept crying, as if waiting for a response from Vanitas.

“Yeah, just a day,” Vanitas said, as quietly and softly as he could.

“Then why do I feel like this? It’s like he’s been gone for years!” Ephemer hid his face in his hands. “I don’t understand! I don’t understand...”

“Well…” Vanitas began, trying to think of something that might help him. “Emotions are hard to understand. Over time, they build up, and you just wish you could… let them go. Right?” Vanitas felt like running away and hiding. His mastery of the arts of darkness meant nothing in the face of a distressed and broken-down friend.

“You know, it’s funny,” Ephemer said, wiping his face only to cry again and undo it, “it feels like he’s just a room away. Like I’ll turn a corner and see him. But it’s always just...” Ephemer paused to sob, “another corner. And another wall. Another thing keeping him from me.”

Ephemer cried, and the sun sank lower in the sky. A shadow crept over the two, overshadowing Ephemer and empowering Vanitas.

“Ephemer?” Vanitas whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Can you close your eyes for a second?”

Ephemer, too exhausted to question it, complied.

Vanitas inhaled, feeling the dark power in his heart spring to life. He reached out to Ephemer’s heart, almost recoiling at the sadness within. Just as he had done a thousand times, he took the sadness and began to mold it, giving it shape and life. Gently, he drew it out of his companion’s heart, hearing him involuntarily sigh in relief.

Thankfully, Ephemer’s eyes remained obediently closed. Vanitas released his hold on the ball of sadness, and it became a sizable Unversed, hovering over Ephemer and awaiting orders.

_ Fly away from this place, _ Vanitas commanded it.  _ Don’t stop flying until you reach the end of the world _ .

It obeyed, its tiny wings propelling its jar-like body into the sky. Vanitas watched it vanish from view, wondering where it would end up.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Ephemer’s tear-stained eyes snapped open. He looked at Vanitas, no sorrow or grief left in his stare.

“Vanitas… who  _ are _ you?”

Vanitas paused. “I’ll tell you later.”

Ephemer looked a little disappointed. “Promise?”

“I promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

The party did not reconvene that day.

As the sun began to sink below the rooftops and toward the endless sea, Vanitas couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. After all, it was his fraudulent leadership that sent the party on an all-day fool’s errand. Without an idea of the numbers of their adversary, they would be on the lookout for Unversed for days afterward. Vanitas may have been unsure of the number himself, but his guilt still flared ever so slightly. Or maybe someone had eradicated an Unversed on the other side of town. In these hours, it was hard to tell.

“It’s getting late,” remarked Ephemer, watching a small crowd of wielders returning to their homes. “It’s about time we headed home.”

Vanitas only nodded in response.

In a nearby window, a Chirithy lit a candle in anticipation of their wielder’s return. Ephemer looked up at them and smiled softly. Vanitas watched as Ephemer’s eyes were drawn from the window to the great pastel sky, dotted with cotton-candy clouds. Ephemer loved the sky.

“Where are you staying, Vanitas?” Ephemer asked, blinking upwards at the clouds.

“... I was planning on the inn,” Vanitas said, voicing the most logical answer on the fly.

Ephemer exhaled, almost scoffing. “Hope you’ve got Munny. They charge way too much.”

Vanitas thought for a moment. He didn’t carry Munny, and the Unversed didn’t drop any. He’d have to sneak in. Not that it would be a problem. He’d snuck into much more dangerous situations before.

“You don’t have any, do you?” Ephemer said.

“Huh?”

Ephemer laughed. “Got you, didn’t I? You didn’t say ‘yeah.’ That’s what you do when you agree with me.”

“... No I don’t.”

“Oh, so I’m imagining things?”

“Yeah.”

Ephemer just smiled at Vanitas, mischief twinkling in his eyes. Vanitas paused, staring at Ephemer.

For a moment, Vanitas almost felt like he could laugh.

“You really are a mysterious guy, Vanitas,” Ephemer continued, resuming his walking pace. “An expert on a kind of creature nobody knows about, always wears a helmet, doesn’t carry any Munny…”

“I said I’d tell you later,” Vanitas muttered shyly.

“You  _ promised _ ,” Ephemer corrected. “When’s ‘later,’ anyway?”

“Not now,” Vanitas sighed. “Maybe never, if we both end up forgetting about it.”

Ephemer laughed. “Nah, that’s not possible.” He gave a reassuring look to Vanitas. “When you make a promise to someone, you never really forget it.”

Though Ephemer had no way of seeing, Vanitas gave him a skeptical look. “Is that true?”

“Yep,” Ephemer chirped. “I think someone else told it to me a long time ago. So far, I’ve never seen it  _ not _ come true.”

Vanitas shook his head. In a way, however, he found himself believing the boy. It may have been a silly thing to say, but the way Ephemer said it was so earnest. He believed in what he was saying, completely and honestly. Vanitas found it a fitting contrast to himself as he yearned for the security to be honest.

“Anyway,” Ephemer said, “you can stay with me tonight. I’ve got room.”

Vanitas blinked, a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind. “Is that… okay?”

“‘Course,” Ephemer said, casually watching the activity of the evening. “We keyblade wielders have to watch out for each other.” He stopped, visibly thinking with that lost-in-thought expression of his. Vanitas almost knew the question before he asked it. 

“You…  _ are _ a keyblade wielder, right? I haven’t even seen you fight...”

“Oh, yeah,” said Vanitas. He held out a hand and summoned his keyblade, dark gears and all.

Ephemer’s eyes widened, and a hand flew up to cover his open mouth. “So cool!”

A sudden sense of  déjà vu hit Vanitas, who quickly put his keyblade away. “It’s okay, I guess. It’s just my keyblade.”

“Aww, you don’t have to be humble about it,” Ephemer said with a smile. “It’s part of you. You should be proud of it!”

“Sure,” Vanitas said. He couldn’t conceive of the concept. Had he ever been proud of himself? Was anybody?

Eager to re-align the subject, Vanitas spoke again. “How far is it to your place?”

Ephemer smirked. “Actually,” he pointed to a nearby building, “it’s right there.”

Vanitas puzzled it out in his mind. He had completely lost his sense of direction throughout the day. How many times had he walked these streets, especially in front of Ephemer’s house? Everything seemed foggier, except the general positions of key locations.

Unexpectedly, Vanitas made a connection. They had been walking away from the inn for quite some time. He stared at Ephemer’s knowing smile, hoping he took him for a directionless foreigner.

“Oh,” said Vanitas.

“C’mon,” said Ephemer, tilting his head toward his home. “Lemme show you around!”

\--

Ephemer’s living conditions were much like Ventus’. Then again, most were much like Ventus’. An open living space occupied most of the area, with a bedroom and a bathroom closed off on the left. Large windows faced the street, letting the evening glow stream in and highlight the papers and books strewn about the living area. Dishes and cups lay abandoned on the most remote of surfaces, decorating the rustic furniture with a lived-in touch.

Involuntarily, Vanitas sighed. Ventus’ home had been neat, but it had been empty. Ephemer’s home, however, was full. A person was living there, poring over the pages of those books during every meal. In a word, it was  _ cozy _ .

“It’s a bit of a mess,” Ephemer said sheepishly. He rushed in before Vanitas and picked up a ceramic cup and saucer. He shrugged. “But it’s home.”

Vanitas stepped down from the landing, recalling every detail of his friend’s home. The small table next to the kitchenette, buried in notes and text, was the one Ephemer used most often. A larger table sat mostly spotless in a sitting area closer to the landing. Ephemer used it exclusively for entertaining. Ventus used to get fussy when Ephemer propped his feet on that table. Vanitas almost laughed at the irony of that memory.

He went to the sitting area, tracing the dark wood of the sofa that was once his favorite spot. Every detail was the same. Each decorative carving, each thread of embroidery on the green cushions, and every single texture. Indulging himself, he sank down onto the sofa, propping his feet up on the table.

"You comfy?" Ephemer asked, placing the dishes on a countertop in the kitchenette.

"Yep," Vanitas replied, leaning back and staring at the flat wooden ceiling. From beyond the tight wooden slats, he heard footsteps and the occasional muffled voice. Who was it that lived in the apartment above? Vanitas let his mind wander away from the memory. His fatigue was busy scolding him for spending so long in the light.

“Let me know if you need anything.” The pantry door squeaked as Ephemer opened it. “What can I get you for dinner?”

Taking his eyes off the ceiling, Vanitas measured out his response. “Nothing. Not hungry.”

“You sure? We’ve been out on missions all day.” Noises from crinkling paper and soft thumps on wood came from the pantry.

“Don’t need it,” said Vanitas. This much was truthful. Most of his sustenance came from darkness these days, although he could have eaten to recover energy faster. However, that would mean removing his helmet.

Ephemer emerged from the pantry, a small bread loaf and a chunk of cheese in his hands. “Well, all right.” He circled back around, grabbing a small notebook and pen from the small table. “I don’t know how you can do that, though. I’m starving.”

Vanitas shrugged.

All items piled into his hands, Ephemer walked to the sitting area. He selected a seat reasonably close to Vanitas, settling down and distributing his meal and the notebook in a comfortable configuration.

Taking a bite of bread, Ephemer’s eyes drifted toward Vanitas’ posture. He reflected it, putting his feet on the table with a devious glint in his eye. Despite himself, Vanitas wondered if that smile was meant for him.

Ephemer glanced at the window on the other side of the room. His gaze lingered there ponderously for a moment. “Do you think we got all the Unversed?”

Vanitas replied distractedly, hardly stopping to think. “Probably.”

“Even with a team that small?”

Vanitas shrugged. “There weren’t a lot in the first place.” Vanitas noticed the slight slump of Ephemer’s shoulders at his reply. He began to wonder about the cause, but the curve between Ephemer’s shoulder and neck seemed to sap the thought from his mind.

“Guess that’s why they sent you alone,” Ephemer mused, looking away from the window. “So you’ll be leaving soon?” He took a bite of cheese, eyeing Vanitas expectantly.

“Oh, umm…” Vanitas had to think for a second or two. “No, I’m here for a few days.”

Ephemer gave a quizzical expression. “Then what’s your plan?”

“For what?”

Ephemer leaned forward, taking his feet off the table. “For the next few days. What are you going to do all day?”

“... Patrol the town. Make sure everything’s all right.”

“For a few days?” Ephemer’s suspicious look hid a hint of sly interest. “I hope you get enough Munny to pay for the inn for a few days.”

Vanitas took his feet off the table, bringing his limbs closer to his body. “I’ll get some tomorrow. There’s plenty of Heartless.”

“It’s fine,” laughed Ephemer, “I’d have you over the whole time if I could. The thing is, I’m-”

Ephemer’s eyes fell on Vanitas once again, and something stopped his tongue. Vanitas watched his gaze dart to the floor, affixing itself between the floorboards. Ephemer’s pale face began to show a touch of rosy color. He closed his mouth, then opened it.

“I’m sorry, I…” He frowned, visibly trying to remember what he was talking about.

“Something wrong?”

Ephemer continued to struggle. “I don’t… I don’t know what just happened.”

Vanitas remained silent. Ephemer wore his thinking expression, but his eyes darted back and forth as if trying to focus on a single thought.

“It’s like… I remember something.” Ephemer put a hand over his mouth. “But it didn’t happen. Right?”

He looked back at Vanitas, studying him for a few seconds. Sighing, he slumped back into his chair. “It’s gone…” His brow relaxed in a sad sort of way.

“... What did you remember?” Vanitas ventured.

“It’s like…” Ephemer rubbed his face with both hands, as if to resuscitate the memory. “For a moment you looked like him…”

Vanitas’ heartbeat suddenly accelerated.

Ephemer sat back up. “I didn’t realize that I felt…” He glanced at Vanitas, then back at nothing. “But we’re just friends, right? That didn’t happen…”

“Ventus?”

“Yeah.” Ephemer looked a little defeated. “Ventus.”

“Is it…” Vanitas muttered, making no eye contact. “Too personal? To talk about, I mean.”

Ephemer took a deep breath. He stared at his bread and cheese, suddenly seeming to lose his appetite. “Yeah. I think so.”

Vanitas sighed, his heart sinking into his stomach.

Ephemer leaned back. “I think I need to lie down.” He paused, then considered his guest. “Are you tired yet? It’s only evening, but...”

“Yeah,” Vanitas said. “I’ll… leave you to your thoughts.”

Ephemer stood up, leaving his dinner and notebook behind. “I should get it ready.”

He walked halfway to the bedroom, then stopped. “Actually… you’d better take the bed. I’m gonna be up pretty early.”

Vanitas stood in response. “I thought you needed to lie down.”

Ephemer smiled, any hints of his previous epiphany disappearing behind a well-kept mask. “The guest comes first.”

Vanitas was thankful for his obscuring equipment as he went into Ephemer’s bedroom. Had it been visible, his face would have betrayed more than he would have cared to show. The fading dusklight cast faint shadows on the tousled sheets on Ephemer’s bed. Two pillows lay stacked on one side of the bed, the top pillow indented with a faint impression of a boy’s head. The window beside the bed looked out over brick walls and slate shingles, just as it always had.

“Don’t worry about meeting me in the morning,” Ephemer said, following Vanitas past the bedroom door. “Like I said, I’ll be up early. You don’t need to lock up when you leave.”

“Thanks, Vanitas said, standing by the side of the bed. He couldn’t say much else.

Ephemer grasped the doorknob in one hand, as if ready to close the door. “I guess this is goodnight, then.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Vanitas cautiously took a seat on the bed.

“Well… goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Vanitas took his eyes off Ephemer, expecting to be left alone. He listened, but didn’t hear the sound of a closing door.

Vanitas looked, finding Ephemer watching the room through a half-closed door. Ephemer stopped, then smiled, hunching his shoulders a little.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was just… hoping to see your face.”

Vanitas stared. Gently, he shook his head.

“I see,” Ephemer said, the disappointment in his eyes infecting Vanitas’ heart. He began to close the door, then stopped himself again.

“You know,” Ephemer said, dropping his facade for a moment, “I don’t know what you did today. When I attracted that Unversed, I mean. But it was really nice of you, whatever it was. So… thank you, Vanitas.”

Vanitas sat there, feeling the moisture collecting in his eyes. What could he have said?

Ephemer flushed, pulling the door closer to hide his face. “Goodnight, Vanitas. Remember your promise.”

With that, he shut the door and left Vanitas alone.

\--

He awoke with the scent of Ephemer enveloping him like a vessel.

He grasped at his face lazily, discovering that he had dissolved the helmet’s dark visor in his sleep. So that was why he had drifted off in such acute comfort and ease. The softness of the top of two pillows pressed on his face, luring him back into the nothingness of sleep…

You do not fear discovery?

Vanitas roused, rolling his eyes. “He wouldn’t barge in on a guest.” He stretched, arms splaying out to either side.  _ I trust him, _ Vanitas thought, involuntarily.

It appears as though your trust is unfounded.

“What are you talking about?” Vanitas yawned, still reluctant to sit up. “Is this another riddle?”

I tell no riddles. I say the things you are too blind to realize.

“That’s what I’m talking about. Just talk to me normally for once.”

Investigate for yourself.

“Ugh,” Vanitas groaned, hauling himself into a seated position. “Fine. Don’t say I never listen to you.” He brought himself to his feet, re-materializing his visor to cover his face. Immediately, the sweet scent around his face became masked in the all-encompassing smell of darkness. Pushing through the door, he found the silent home as empty as it sounded.

“Ephemer?” Vanitas called. No reply.

Already the boy has gone.

“He said he’d be up early,” Vanitas said, peeking at the sofa in the seating area. A blanket lay haphazardly on the cushions with nobody to cover. “Just Dandelion stuff, probably.”

Search your memories.

Vanitas scoffed. “And what good would that do me?” Regardless, he thought back to his relationship with Ephemer. They had met before the war. They were friends. More came later on, after the war. They became something else entirely, in more ways than one.

Confused, Vanitas searched again. Ephemer invited him to Skuld’s party. The party broke up. What happened to those friends? His mind went blank. That must have been the wrong track. Why did the party break up?

It was because someone was missing.

Someone important.

Ephemer had gone missing.

Now you see what the boy was saying all along, Vanitas.

Ephemer was searching for secrets.

Ephemer had gone to the tower.

Ephemer would not return until the end of the war.

_ I’ll wait, _ Vanitas thought in a panic.  _ Once the war is over, I’ll see him again. _

Use your mind. How long would that take?

Vanitas’ breathing grew shorter. “Oh no.”

There are other reasons you cannot wait.

Trying to keep his thoughts under control, Vanitas recounted the process of the war. Everyone fought, then every survivor forgot. Every survivor except for each Union leader. Vanitas’ mind flickered with a glimmer of hope, but other memories extinguished it. Vanitas was never a Union leader. And without Ventus… Strelitzia would take his place.

“No,” Vanitas muttered, involuntarily.  _ No, no, no, no, no. _ He purged the thought of Strelitzia and Ventus’ awful act from his mind. That was a memory he never wanted.

What will you do now?

Vanitas could hardly think. All that progress, that new friendship he had built… was it all for nothing? Had he wasted his time? He opened his eyes, regarding the fake reproduction of Ephemer’s home. Were his experiences as artificial as this projection?

“I can’t let that be true,” Vanitas said, his voice trembling. “I have to reset it.” He had to reuse his experiences somehow. Make Ephemer real again, somehow. Fulfill his promise.

Is that your choice?

An Unversed took form in front of Vanitas. An ugly thing. A reminder of his own incompetent complacency. Vanitas squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yes.”

Then you must make it so.

Vanitas cried, crumpling the memory illusion like a ruined page of a neat notebook.

The room went blank, the Unversed dissolved into pure emotion, and Vanitas felt the ache of loneliness once again.


	6. Chapter 6

Bitterly, Vanitas faced the blinding midday again.

He stood for a moment, miniscule beneath the towering structures around him. The venue taunted him, setting the same stage Vanitas had failed to perform upon once more. No matter how broken and desperate Vanitas would become, the scene would remain the same. As long as he remembered it, it would come back to mock him.

Despite being only the third time it had reset, he might have found the repetition maddening. However, his mind was too focused to let the anxieties of stagnation seep in.

_ Ephemer must remember something _ , Vanitas thought.  _ If I remember that he knows me, the castle has to remember, too. Right? _ He sighed, realizing the futility of thinking about the Castle and its workings. He thought he heard the darkness say something. It was too bright out to hear.

Like clockwork, Ephemer appeared in the clearing.

Vanitas held his ground. His mind raced with things he could say, but none of them were quite right. Why hadn’t he planned his words ahead of time?

Ephemer’s wide eyes fell on the paralyzed figure, an obvious dark smudge on the brightly-lit environment. Vanitas’ heart ached, seeing the face of his friend wiped clean of all recognition.

“Oh,” Ephemer said, startling a little. His hand flexed slightly, revealing his wielder’s instinct to draw his weapon in the presence of creatures of darkness. Had he always done that?

“Hello,” Ephemer continued, smiling cautiously. “I’ve… never seen you before.”

Vanitas did his best to assume a natural position. “Hello.” In a rush of quick thinking, genius struck. “I’m looking for an Ephemer. Do you know him?”

He paused, then beamed, pointing his thumb at his chest. “That’s me!”

“Oh, okay,” Vanitas said, feigning mild surprise. “A friend of mine told me to find you. He said to tell you he’s on important Dandelion business.”

Ephemer laughed a little. “That doesn’t narrow it down. Who was it?”

“Ventus,” announced Vanitas, craving the expression of recognition Ephemer was bound to make.

Ephemer indulged that desire. “That’s surprising. I wouldn’t take him for the adventuring type.”

Vanitas shrugged. “He’s a Dandelion. That means he’s different from the rest to begin with.”

Ephemer’s eyes twinkled. “So you’re a Dandelion too, huh?”

“... Yeah.” Why not? Vanitas knew too much anyway.

“Good,” he said, softening his expression. “It’s nice to see that there’s more of us every day.” Ponderously, he took a seat on the fountain’s edge. Vanitas mirrored the action. 

Ephemer was silent for a few moments, eyeing the stranger in front of him. Undoubtedly, he had expected him to leave. Vanitas cursed his own carelessness. What kind of an introduction was that? What was he even  _ doing _ ?

“So…” Ephemer cautiously began, “what’s the helmet for?”

“Secret,” Vanitas said, his emotions deflating. He should have seen that question coming.

“All right, all right,” Ephemer said, putting his hands up defensively. Vanitas winced, and he reminded himself to be nicer.

“But,” Vanitas continued, “Ventus would probably tell you. He’s not bound by secrets like that.”

“Okay,” said Ephemer, his face brightening. “I’ll ask him when he comes back.” 

Both stared blankly into the street. Sneaking a side glance, Vanitas took note of Ephemer’s tapping fingers. Either he was impatient or nervous, and both were equally likely. After all, Ephemer was expecting someone else. He began to wonder how many more seconds he could spend alone with Ephemer until it was time for Master Ava’s cue.

“How do you know Ventus?” Ephemer asked, staring into the sky. “I’d assume it’s because you’re both Dandelions, but somehow I know him and not you.”

Vanitas mulled it over. “I travel a lot. We’re… brothers. In a sense.”

“In a sense?”

“Yeah. I can’t live without him, and he can’t live without me.” Vanitas stopped himself. That had been too much truth for one sentence.

“Funny…” Ephemer’s voice wavered for a split second. “He’s never said a word about you.” His eyes fell to the cobblestones. “Not to me, anyway.”

“He doesn’t like me very much,” Vanitas said hurriedly. “I’m just delivering his message.”

Ephemer gave an incredulous laugh. “So he’s like your brother, but he doesn’t like you?”

“... Yeah,” said Vanitas, trapped in the worst lie he had ever woven.

“You make no sense, Vanitas. As usual.” Ephemer leaned back, kicking his feet into the air. Vanitas opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat the moment he processed Ephemer’s sentence.

“What was that?” Vanitas half-whispered.

“Hm?” Ephemer hummed.

Vanitas pivoted toward him, leaning forward to emphasize his next words. “What’s my name?”

“Vanitas.” Ephemer blinked, then frowned. “But…” a hand flew to his face, “I’ve never met you.”

Vanitas’ heart fluttered in a burst of irrepressible joy. “That’s… weird,” he managed, forcing the feeling down his own throat before it could escape.

Ephemer stood, staring at Vanitas. “What’s going on?” His eyes remained fixed on Vanitas, darting ever so slightly around the perimeter of Vanitas’ helmet.

Vanitas shifted under Ephemer’s intensity. “I don’t know any better than you do.”

Ephemer began pacing, locked into his signature thinking expression. “Did you know my name before I told it to you?”

“No,” Vanitas lied.

“Of course you didn’t,” Ephemer muttered. “You were looking for me by my name and you didn’t recognize me...” A light breeze ruffled Ephemer’s hair as he paced, lost in his own thoughts.

Concealed by the covering on his face, Vanitas stared, wanting. What he wanted, he couldn’t say. Even through his excitement, the way Ephemer paced was so tragically familiar that it almost broke Vanitas’ heart. How could he possibly discern between his wants and his needs when they swirled around like shadows in the night? He should have just gone home ages ago. Then, he wouldn’t have to work so hard to make sense of simple feelings.

But, no. He was still bound by his promise to reveal himself.

When exactly was that going to happen?

Ephemer suddenly looked up at something behind Vanitas. “Master Ava!” His expression lightened, but didn’t lose its pensive quality. Vanitas turned to find the Union leader in question, her light pink robes glittering with metallic ornamentations.

“Hello, Ephemer...” she said. Her soft voice seemed to trail off, distracted by the unexpected figure. She opened her mouth, but failed to speak. Even behind her mask, Vanitas knew she was staring at him, trying to make sense of him.

“What’s the matter?” Ephemer asked, halfway knowing the answer.

“Ephemer…” Ava began, “who is this?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” he said, glancing at Vanitas. “This might be a weird question, but do you know his name?”

Ava leaned forward slightly, engrossed in studying the newcomer. “His name? I’ve never seen him before.”

“Neither have I. But I know his name is Vanitas.”

Vanitas kept quiet, watching the two puzzle out his existence. He would have relaxed in the silence, but there was something in the way Ava was staring at him that unnerved him. Her covered eyes seemed to burn into his heart, perhaps even discovering the darkness within. He felt exposed. Only a person who wears a mask could recognize one of their own. She  _ understood _ , in the most frightening way.

“Sorry,” Ava said, addressing Vanitas. “We’re talking like you’re not here. Your name was Vanitas, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Master Ava,” Vanitas said, standing his ground.

“Wait,” Ephemer said, musing. “If you don’t recognize him, how can he be a Dandelion?”

Ava paused, regarding Vanitas with even more confusion than before.

Vanitas seized his opportunity. “You don’t recognize me? I’m Vanitas, remember?”

“No,” Ava muttered. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

Vanitas winced, waiting for the inevitable suspicion the two would develop. It wouldn’t take long for his poor explanations to unravel, condemning him as a threat.

“Something must be wrong with our memories,” Ephemer mused instead.

Ava turned around, walking forward for a few steps. “It’s not unheard of. Memories are easily changed by people who know what they’re doing. If someone — or something —wanted to erase our memories…”

“We wouldn’t even know,” Ephemer muttered, staring at Vanitas. “Is there something about that in the Book of Prophecies?”

Ava straightened. “No. Besides, we’re not supposed to talk about that.”

Ephemer smiled. “C’mon, I was joking!”

“Which reminds me of the reason I came to talk with you,” Ava continued. She stepped closer to Ephemer and hushed her voice. “It’s about the truth.”

Vanitas watched her glance at him, then back to Ephemer. She gave Ephemer a few inaudible words, leaving Vanitas isolated and dumbfounded. His cover-up shouldn’t have worked. It was full of contradictions, each more suspicious than the last. How was it that two of the greatest minds in Daybreak Town didn’t consider him a threat? 

“... The tower…” Ava whispered a bit too loudly. Ephemer shifted and fidgeted with his hands. If only the two were more obscured in shadow, Vanitas could have overheard their conversation…

Ephemer straightened, putting on a smile for Ava. “Don’t worry. You’ve nothing to worry about.” His smile spread across his face at  _ just _ the wrong angle.

_ Lying to a Foreteller’s face, _ Vanitas mused. Ephemer always had guts. Vanitas could remember that much.

“That’s good to hear,” Ava said, relaxing. If Vanitas didn’t know better, he’d have sworn Ephemer had fooled her. “We’re going to need all the Dandelions soon.”

Ephemer’s eyebrows raised slightly, his eyes darting away from Ava. “How soon?”

“Nobody knows yet,” Ava said. She looked at Vanitas again and nodded. “But we’re going to need all the help we can get. That includes you, Vanitas. At least as long as you stay here.”

Although the urge to ask what she meant was overpowering, Vanitas resisted. Instead, he nodded back.

Ava approached Vanitas. Had she sensed his insecurity? “You’re not from here, are you?”

“... No,” Vanitas said.

“But you’ve been here before.”

“Once or twice.”

“Then you’ll be at home here,” Ava said, releasing her paralyzing gaze. “Best wishes to you, Vanitas.”

“Aww, you’re leaving?” Ephemer said.

“I’m really busy today,” Ava said. “So, yes.” She smiled at Ephemer, in that genuine way everyone smiled at Ephemer. “Don’t get into trouble, okay?”

Ephemer smiled back. “No promises!”

Ava didn’t look back as she opened a corridor and stepped into it. Swirling shapes closed behind her, leaving Ephemer and Vanitas alone.

Vanitas waited for Ephemer to say something.

Ephemer cleared his throat. “Sorry about that,” he muttered, walking back to the fountain and taking a seat by Vanitas. “Dandelion business. I’m sure you know.”

“I know,” Vanitas said. “Top secret and all that.”

“It hardly is,” Ephemer said, looking up at the sky. “Anyone who pays attention knows everything about the Dandelions. We just don’t notice ‘cause we  _ are _ Dandelions.”

“Yeah,” Vanitas said, relaxing in the exclusive presence of his old friend. He had come to ignore the uneasiness of being in the light. There was no voice of darkness pestering him, no uncontrollable dark power, nothing to stop his observation of a time long past. He had lived like this once, so he could live it again. Plus, Ephemer’s eyes shone in the light with an iridescence unattainable in shadow.

Vanitas sighed, memories of his old life flooding back. “Sometimes, I wish I didn’t know things. That I was never one of Master Ava’s pets.”

“Heh. I don’t get that.”

“Why?”

“Well, Master Ava is my friend, for one.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No, you’re fine. A lot of people think she’s weird. All you need to do is get to know her.”

_ Not too closely, _ Vanitas added in his mind. He shuddered.

“Anyway,” Ephemer obliviously continued, “it doesn’t matter if you care about the knowledge, the Dandelions are always there to help you. They’re like… permanent friends.”

_ Not permanent, _ Vanitas thought almost out loud. He stopped his tongue just in time.

“You…” Ephemer began, quieter than before. “... you came here alone, right?” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly, looking sideways at his dark companion.

A thought occurred to Vanitas. He knew for sure that Ephemer’s strengths were in befriending those pitiable souls who had nobody to spend time with. If he could make Ephemer pity him, maybe he’d have a stronger chance to get close. Maybe even closer than his last attempt.

“Yeah. I don’t have a lot of friends.” Vanitas tilted his head down and slightly away from Ephemer, acting the part of an insecure stranger.

“Then don’t worry,” Ephemer said, beaming at Vanitas. “As a Dandelion, I’m here to help my fellow comrades! You won’t ever be alone when you’re one of us.”

Despite his best efforts, Vanitas let a laugh escape. Ephemer’s theatrics charmed him to no end.

“What’s so funny?” Ephemer said, his sly grin betraying his knowledge of the answer.

“Nothing,” Vanitas said. “It’s just… been a long time since someone’s said that to me.” Vanitas watched Ephemer’s expression for cues. It softened a little, looking a bit sadder.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Ephemer’s predictable kindness was exactly the thing Vanitas needed.

“Well…” Vanitas said, trying his best to look timid. “I don’t have anyone to collect Lux with.” 

Ephemer’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Vanitas pressed a little more. 

“Can you set me up with a party?”

“Oh, for sure,” Ephemer enthused. “What Union are you in?”

“Leopardus.”

That twinkle in Ephemer’s eyes sent a familiar chill down Vanitas’ spine. “So am I!”

Vanitas smiled beneath the cover of his helmet.

“Want to join my party?”

“If that’s all right...”

“Then that’s settled!” Ephemer said, clapping his hands together. “Well, not quite. You’ll need permission from the leader to join. But that won’t be a problem, of course. I think she’ll like you anyway.”

The rush Vanitas felt at his success dampened as a strange guilt fell over him. He had made it into the party, but was it really okay to use Ephemer’s emotions to get himself there? He had done it countless times to countless others, but it just felt  _ wrong _ to manipulate Ephemer.

“Thank you, Ephemer,” Vanitas said. “That means a lot.”

“Sure,” Ephemer said, smiling in the same way he always did when dealing with strangers. Vanitas’ heart felt a little heavier. Clearly, he had a little way to go before he was ready to fulfill his promise.

The two stood, Ephemer taking initiative and leading Vanitas to one of the outgoing streets. Vanitas’ eyes locked onto the precious person in front of him, thousands of thoughts rushing through his mind at once.

Even if it was all that the darkness had taught him, he didn’t seek to own Ephemer or command him. His gaze intensified on Ephemer as a feeling from the deepest pit of his heart rose to the surface. At that moment, his most overpowering desire was to be owned and be commanded. He wanted the presence of that silver-haired boy as he wanted the presence of a master to train him. Not an overseeing management like Xehanort had given him, but a constant trainer, a constant conscience. A presence as intensive as the darkness itself. 

Yes, that was it. He wanted Ephemer like he wanted darkness. He wanted to be wrapped in his power and cloaked by his radiance. He wanted his essence to seep into him, to breathe him in and breathe him out. He would become Ephemer’s vessel, to use and discard. 

Vanitas shook his head, wishing he hadn’t thought those things. Now that they had come to his attention, he would surely ache without Ephemer’s constant reassurance.

“Vanitas?”

“Yeah?”

Ephemer smiled, frowning a little. “Are we going or what?”

“Sorry,” Vanitas said, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

They left the fountain square, Ephemer leading the way. From somewhere, some memory in the furthest reaches of Vanitas’ heart prompted him to look up at the roof.

Nobody was there.

Why would there be?


	7. Chapter 7

Even if you told him now, he wouldn’t believe you.

Vanitas leapt out of the shadow he had wandered into, surprised by the sudden voice of darkness. In the light, it silenced itself. He sighed, staring at Ephemer’s back. He felt the urge to rebel against the darkness, but he fought it down. It was probably right.

Ephemer looked back, shining eyes blinking. A small smile traced his lips. Vanitas braced himself for another tricky question, but instead Ephemer just looked away. The curls at the base of his neck bounced, perfect and soft.

Now definitely wasn’t the time. Ventus was so different from Vanitas. Ventus had a proper heart. A proper life. A natural friendship. Vanitas had none of that, and Ephemer knew it. Of all people, Ephemer would believe him the  _ least _ . If he told him, Ephemer would just end up being confused. Or worse, disappointed.

Vanitas kicked the pavement, sending a pebble flying. The task he had been given was so easy until he had thought about it. How could he gain Ephemer’s trust? He was nothing. Just some dark creature with no control over his own life.

Ephemer blinked at the pebble’s tiny sound. Vanitas straightened, poising himself just in case Ephemer decided to look back.

“You good back there?” Ephemer chirped.

“Yeah,” said Vanitas. “Just peachy.”

_ “Peachy?” What was that? _

Vanitas stifled a groan. Saying stupid things wasn’t the way to gain Ephemer’s trust. But then again, what was? Just being himself? That would get him out of Ephemer’s heart for sure. Vanitas slumped his shoulders as he walked. Every strategy he had thought of fell flat. Ephemer was leaving that night. What could he possibly do in one day to make Ephemer like him? He needed more time. Even just one day would improve his chances so much more.

Ephemer laughed. “If you say so. You look a little lost.”

“Lost?” Vanitas blinked, looking up at the blue patch of sky framed between buildings. Had he seen this place before?

“Yeah,” Ephemer said. “You almost didn’t follow me when we took the last turn. Guess you’re not from around here, huh?”

Vanitas frowned. Last time, he had remembered the way, hadn’t he? Why did the streets look so foreign? He could have passed this place a dozen times before without noticing. It all looked the same to him.

“Guess not,” Vanitas muttered. He quickly reflected on the events since the last restart, checking for holes in his recollection. Surely, this wasn’t the first time his memory had failed him. Even before, he had forgotten things. Was that right? He frowned, trying to remember exactly what it was that he had forgotten.

“What do you mean, you ‘guess not?’” Ephemer said with his mischievous smile.

Vanitas turned his head away sheepishly. “Misspoke.”

Ephemer laughed. “Don’t sweat it. Happens to the best of us.” He faced forward once again, propping his hands behind his head as he walked. Vanitas tried his best to resume his train of thought, but something made it impossible to sink back into his own head.

“Lucky that you’re Leopardus, though,” Ephemer continued. “If you weren’t, I’d have to recommend you to someone else.”

Vanitas tilted his head. Did Ephemer seriously not suspect him? “Yeah, crazy how it works out like that. Glad I found another member so fast.”

“Not that Unions matter at all, of course,” Ephemer said. Vanitas felt a smile creep onto his face. Ephemer’s kind defiance of the Unions was such a fond memory to him. Much of it was due to Master Ava’s influence, but he recalled Ephemer’s personal flair to the idea.

“Even if you were from a different Union,” Ephemer said, “I’d still be here with you right now.”

“We’d still be friends?” Vanitas mused absentmindedly.

“Well,” Ephemer laughed, “I meant that I’d still wanna figure out what your deal is. But yeah, I guess you could call us friends.” Ephemer slowed his pace to walk beside Vanitas, then gave him a light hit on the shoulder.

He exaggerated his recoil as Ephemer chuckled. Vanitas lightly shook his head. “That’s a stretch. We’ve just met, you know.”

“What?” Ephemer squinted at Vanitas. “You’re the one that said it first!”

“Hmm. Yeah, guess you’re right.” Vanitas shrugged.

Ephemer gave a small sigh, giving Vanitas a sideways glance. “You give up too easily, Vanitas.”

He frowned.  _ No I don’t, _ he thought. What Ephemer had said was wrong. He hadn’t given up on his promise. Of course, Ephemer wouldn’t know it. He hadn’t seen the struggle, the pain Vanitas had experienced in trying to avoid giving up. The notion was ludicrous.

Although the darkness was inaudible in the daylight, Vanitas still imagined its voice in his ear. Of course it had hurt him to persevere. He was so used to giving up.

Vanitas straightened, a new determination welling up in him. If that was really how Ephemer saw him, he had to prove it wrong.

“There’s my party!” Ephemer exclaimed. Vanitas looked up from the ground, a few figures in a nearby crossroads catching his eye. Ephemer quickened his pace to a brisk jog, beckoning for Vanitas to follow. “I’ll introduce you!”

Vanitas obediently approached, lost in thought. As before, five figures stood in a crossroads. They chatted together out of earshot, their faces unclear and clothes nondescript. One of these figures was Skuld. Vanitas felt his attention slipping from the others and onto her.

“Hey, Ephemer!” Skuld shouted, waving.

_ Skuld. Maybe she’s the key. _

The other party members cast their eyes onto Ephemer unanimously, saying nothing.

“Hi, guys! Am I late?” Ephemer chirped. Skuld’s smile widened at the sight of him. They were close friends, Vanitas remembered. If he could somehow utilize that connection between the two…

“No, actually,” Skuld said. “You’re on time for once.” She playfully placed a hand on Ephemer’s shoulder. He shrugged it off, beaming. Skuld raised her eyebrows at the newcomer behind Ephemer. “Who’s your friend?”

Ephemer looked her in the eyes. “Do you know his name?”

Skuld squinted at Vanitas, who felt her scrutiny hold him in place like a vise. “Vanitas? I’ve never seen him before.”

Ephemer seemed to physically rise in excitement. “There! Right there! You said his name!”

Skuld opened her mouth, then shut it. Around Vanitas, the rest of the party stood and stared, their faces devoid of personality. A few unintelligible murmurs passed between them.

“Huh,” Skuld said, brushing past Ephemer to get a better look at Vanitas. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so,” Vanitas said. “It looks like some people know my name here.” He stood his ground, looking up at Skuld. He knew about her kind nature and fair judgement, but somehow that fairness threatened him.

“That can’t be the whole story,” Ephemer chimed in. “Master Ava didn’t know his name, and he doesn’t know anyone else’s.”

Skuld broke her eyes off of Vanitas for a second. “Did she say anything unusual?”

“Not really,” Ephemer said. “Although, she did say something about people tampering with our memories.”

Skuld raised an eyebrow. “Do you think it’s true? That our memories have been changed?”

Ephemer shrugged. “How would we know? Besides, it’s best not to get involved. The Foretellers would have seen this coming if it was really bad, right?”

“That’s odd to hear coming from you,” Skuld laughed. She turned her attention back to Vanitas. “So what brings you here?”

Vanitas cleared his throat. “I was hoping to join this party, actually. I’m in Leopardus, too.”

“Well, sure,” Skuld said without thinking. “The more, the merrier. But I meant something more like, ‘where did you come from?’”

“Oh,” Vanitas said, instinctively looking to Ephemer for support. “I came here to deliver a message from Ventus, my friend. He’s out on…” Vanitas paused. Weren’t the Dandelions supposed to be a secret?

“It’s okay,” Ephemer reassured. “He means to say Ventus is on Dandelion business. We’re all Dandelions here.” The four others nodded, with whispers of “ _ we’re Dandelions _ ” scattered among them.

Skuld looked surprised. “Ventus? He must be special if he’s alone.”

Ephemer chuckled. “Well, you’ve gotta admit, he is pretty special.”

Skuld nodded. “All right, then. We’ll just do today’s mission without him.” She made eye contact with Vanitas, tilting her head in the direction of the party. “Welcome to the party, Vanitas.” She extended a hand, and Vanitas took it in a firm handshake.

“How can we trust him?” a voice from the four others said. The voice was neither old nor young, coming from no figure in particular.

Skuld’s hand hesitated in Vanitas’. She let go, then resumed her natural smile. “Of course we can. He’s one of us!” She cast an expectant gaze at him. “Can you summon your Keyblade?”

Vanitas nodded, and did so. The four other members murmured in assent, and Skuld nodded. Ephemer’s eyes widened.

“So cool!” Ephemer exclaimed. Vanitas retracted his keyblade, not wanting to repeat that interaction again.

“See? Nothing to worry about,” Skuld said. “With a keyblade like that, Vanitas will easily pick up Ventus’ slack today. Now that everyone’s here, should we start our mission?”

Everyone gave affirming nods. 

Ephemer tapped on Skuld’s shoulder. “Can I be paired up with Vanitas today?”

Skuld nodded solemnly. “Sure. After all, you’re the only one he knows. Make sure to introduce him to the others, though.”

Vanitas gaped in disbelief. Was he actually going to get the chance to get closer to Ephemer? The perfect opportunity seemed to be falling right into his lap. He even had a backup plan in the form of Skuld. Did he really deserve this?

He collected his thoughts and assumed his unassuming persona. “That works out,” he said, not wanting to seem desperate. “But who’s going with Skuld?”

Skuld’s expression gave Vanitas the overwhelming impression that he had said something very wrong.

“She’ll probably go alone,” Ephemer said. “She’s stronger than any of us!” His sparkling expression clashed with Skuld’s cold stare, fueling Vanitas’ uneasiness.

Skuld did not turn around to face Ephemer. “You’re not too bad yourself. But you’re right, I’ll be fine.” She stepped back and addressed the party. “Today’s assignment is Agrabah, inner city. It’s a simple Darkball job, but make sure to get extra Lux.”

The four indiscriminate figures nodded, and left in pairs by glowing portals.

“Ephemer, can you go on ahead? I need to have a word with Vanitas.” Skuld’s expression betrayed no ill intent, but Ephemer’s dismissal seemed to sever something in Vanitas’ heart for the smallest portion of a second.

Ephemer nodded. “Sure thing.” Smiling, he waved at Vanitas. “See you there!”

As the last glimpse of Ephemer disappeared into his portal, Skuld stepped in the way of Vanitas’ gaze and took a deep breath.

“Vanitas, who are you?”

Vanitas looked up at her. “A friend of Ventus.”

She paused. “You know what I’m asking.”

“Yeah…” Vanitas mumbled, breaking eye contact. “But… I can’t tell you. Or him.”

“He’ll try to get it out of you.”

“I know.”

“Vanitas?” Skuld slumped her shoulders and sighed. “How did you know my name?”

Vanitas felt a sliver of panic rise to his chest. “Ephemer told me before.”

“But there’s four other members besides me. How did you know which one was me?”

Vanitas remained silent. Nothing got past Skuld.

Skuld moved her hand as if to put it on Vanitas’ shoulder. She reconsidered, letting it drop to her side again. “Vanitas, I  _ trust _ you.”

“What?”

Skuld almost laughed. “I’m assuming you meant to say ‘why.’ And the answer is... I don’t know.” She cast her eyes to something in the distance as she searched her own emotions. “If it weren’t for the others, I would have kept trusting you. But when I use my head…” She looked up at Vanitas, her grave demeanor looking sadder than ever. “I can’t. There’s just too many contradictions.”

Vanitas stared at the ground. “Is there anything I can do to earn your trust?”

Skuld shook her head. “I don’t know if you’re lying. I can’t. It’s like I want to believe everything you say, like I know you.” She smiled weakly. “I don’t even know if you’re dangerous.”

Vanitas clenched his fists, then unclenched them. She was right. He was dangerous, no matter if he loved or hated the people around him. Darkness followed him like an ever-watchful eye. Normal people didn’t recognize that presence. Normal people could spend time in the light without getting burned, and make friends and live happily. He couldn’t live like them again. No, he couldn’t even  _ hope _ to. That’s why he came to the Castle. But, even after all he had hoped, his respite reflected his character as acutely as reality.

“I’ve made a decision,” Skuld said solemnly. “I will allow you to spend time with Ephemer. He seems to be what you want, anyway.”

Vanitas raised his head, speechless.

“But,” Skuld continued, “if he comes to any harm, I’ll know it was you.”

Vanitas could only nod.

Skuld forced a smile. “I doubt that would happen, though. I trust Ephemer’s strength more than I’m afraid of you.”

“... Thank you.” Vanitas finally found himself able to move. He relaxed his posture, as if his whole body was sighing in relief.

“Make sure I don’t regret it, okay?” Skuld smiled at him, but more genuinely than before.

“Don’t worry about it,” Vanitas said, hoping to quell her fears. “He’s safe with me.”

Skuld relaxed. “Go on ahead. I think I’ll take the day off.”

Vanitas didn’t need to be told twice. For the first time in many years, he opened a portal just like he had when he was Ventus.

“Goodbye, Vanitas.”

Vanitas took a step into the portal, feeling its familiar alien warmth through his suit. “Goodbye, Skuld. I promise I won’t hurt him.”

Before he could hear Skuld’s response, he slipped the rest of his body into the portal, leaving Daybreak Town behind.


	8. Chapter 8

The first thing Vanitas noticed was the height of the blazing sun in the sky. Stepping out of the portal, he blocked the sun’s rays with his hand, squinting as he stepped into a world much brighter than the one he had left. His eyes began to adjust, and he beheld a world of sandstone and colorful cloth. Blocky structures formed dusty streets, weaving erratically in a maze of sun-baked stone. This was indeed Agrabah. Vanitas had been here before, on more occasions than Ventus had. In its familiarity, the reproduction of the city felt… off. As if it had been reduced to its essentials and re-assembled.

For the first time in a while, he was thankful for his suit’s ever-present cloak of darkness. He’d always hated the desert.

Leaning against a wall, Ephemer blinked at Vanitas, mouth curling into a silent smile. He stood by a stack of barrels, absently grinding his heel in the sandy ground. He was alone.

Vanitas stared. “You waited for me?”

Ephemer tilted his head. “You’re my partner, aren’t you?” He approached Vanitas, not expecting an answer. “So, do you have anywhere you want to start?”

Restraining himself from studying the detail in Ephemer’s eyes, Vanitas looked to his side, where a street trailed off into an expanse of stone. It was lined with market stalls and goods, but nobody bartered or sold. No pedestrians filled the roads, no residents peered through windows. The emptiness was haunting. Unfamiliar.

“... Let’s just walk,” Vanitas said, absently grasping at his memory to find some evidence of Agrabah being populated. As much as he wanted to remember, he turned up with nothing.

“Okay,” Ephemer said, leaning forward as if to meet Vanitas’ eyes. “If that’s what you want to do.”

Against his better judgement, Vanitas stared back. Ephemer’s eyes were so kind, so full of a watery sort of light. He should have felt ashamed to be caught up in it. But he wasn’t. Instead, he was just… grateful.

“Do you know your way around?” Ephemer asked, seemingly unaware of the captivating power he held.

Vanitas’ heart sank as he forcibly broke eye contact. “No, not this part of town.” It wasn’t a lie. The pillars of cubed sandstone appeared labyrinthine to him, despite his long history with the area.

“Stick close, then,” Ephemer said, gazing up at the height of a nearby building. “Wouldn’t wanna lose you on the first day.” He winked, and Vanitas ached.

As Ephemer began to walk, Vanitas trailed behind, thoughts rushing through his head and dissipating almost as quickly. Frowning, he tried to focus on the important thoughts. Keeping Ephemer was the priority. He had to figure out how to stop him from leaving, but his only lead was already suspicious of him. He had to tell him who he was, but the time wasn’t right. Try as he might, the thoughts all slipped away from his grasp. After all, Ephemer was  _ there _ .

“So, Vanitas?”.

“Hm?”

“What’s it like where you’re from? Is it just like Daybreak Town?”

“Hmm. It’s pretty similar.” Vanitas didn’t feel like lying. “I’ve seen lots of places. I don’t really  _ live _ anywhere. But once, I lived in a place just like Daybreak.”

“Really? How similar?”

“Pretty much identical.”

Ephemer tilted his head a little. “Huh.” He fidgeted with his scarf. “I guess I knew that there was more than the worlds we go to. But there must be a lot if there’s enough for there to be identical Daybreak Towns, right?”

Vanitas shrugged. “Maybe it’s just chance.”

“Maybe,” Ephemer said. “But there’s a lot of things that aren’t. Like the Book of Prophecies, for example.”

“That’s true,” Vanitas said, the gentle familiarity of Ephemer’s thinking process soothing his emotions.

“So you know about that, too?” Ephemer looked at Vanitas, eyebrows raised in surprise. “The Book of Prophecies?”

Oops. “Well, my world had one. A long time ago.”

“Well, now I’m just more curious,” Ephemer said, as a statement of fact. He looked away and turned a corner. “But that’s okay. I can see that you don’t like to talk about your past.”

Vanitas stopped, bewildered. “What? Did I say that?”

“Nah,” Ephemer said, watching a handful of sand blow across the ground. “I can tell by your tone of voice.” He shrugged. “It’s touchy, I get it.”

Vanitas’ guilt surprised him. “You don’t have to stop asking…”

“Actually,” Ephemer said, looking up. “Hold that thought.” Vanitas followed his line of sight, arriving at a hovering ball of darkness halfway down the alley. He stayed in place as Ephemer approached it.

“I’ve got this one,” Ephemer said, his gait lacking enthusiasm. The Heartless hardly moved in protest as Ephemer struck it down in two swings of his keyblade. He sighed as he put it away.

“Nice,” Vanitas remarked.

Ephemer shrugged. “Darkball hunting is so  _ boring _ .” He motioned for Vanitas to follow him, then turned around. When Vanitas caught up, he continued his lament.

“They don’t  _ do _ anything. All we have to do is walk up and hit ‘em.”

“Yeah,” Vanitas said coyly. “I’ve seen a Darkball Heartless before.”

“How am I supposed to know that if I can’t ask you about your past?” Ephemer said, feigning a pout.

“I never said you couldn’t.”

“Yeah, but you’re obviously not enjoying it. What’s the point if it’s not fun?”

Briefly, Vanitas recalled the time he had spent with Ephemer on missions. Often, the missions were fulfilling on their own. Other times, however, Ephemer wasn’t so lucky. His restless nature would manifest in boredom. On a mission much like this, he would employ a different strategy to entertain himself.

“So it’s fun you want?” Vanitas ventured.

Ephemer raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

Vanitas chose his words carefully. “Ventus told me you’re fond of games.”

“Games?” Ephemer said, acting shocked to mask his excitement. “Why would he have said such a thing?”

Vanitas shrugged. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

Ephemer shook his head and smiled. “I’m teasing!”

“I know.”

Ephemer scoffed. “And here I thought Ventus wouldn’t have mentioned me much. Apparently, he told you everything.”

“Pretty much.”

Ephemer gave Vanitas a challenging look. “Did Ventus also tell you the rules of Darkball Tag?”

Vanitas smiled sarcastically under his mask. “As a matter of fact, he did.”

“Well, that’s great!” Ephemer pointed a thumb at himself. “I hope you can keep up with the master.”

“Don’t count on it,” Vanitas said. It had truly been a lifetime since he had played that old game. Ephemer had beaten him at it on nearly every Darkball mission back then. But this time was different. With years more experience under his belt, Vanitas was clearly athletically superior. With statistics on his side, Vanitas looked forward proudly. He was going to  _ destroy _ Ephemer at Darkball Tag.

“We’ve just gotta find one,” Ephemer said, filling the silent space with chatter. “I’d say first one to find one gets a point, but you’d probably just get lost.”

“Hey,” Vanitas protested, knowing that Ephemer was right. “I can handle myself.”

“Sure you can,” Ephemer said, enthusiastically peeking around a corner.

“What makes you say that?”

“You might be all dark and mysterious, Vanitas…” Ephemer rushed to the next alley. “But I know that under all that, you’re just a kid.”

Vanitas laughed. “No. You’re wrong.”

“I’m right, actually.”

Vanitas felt a dark presence above him. Looking up, he saw two bouncy tendrils of darkness swinging above the first-story roof. “Wrong. Also, I found our Heartless.” Effortlessly, he leapt up to the platform above. The Heartless was in front of him, round and harmless. Instinctively, Vanitas reached out to command it with his heart. The Darkball responded only with a pathetic whirl in the air.  _ Right. Not an Unversed. _ Vanitas sighed and walked around it. He then commanded it harder, by planting his foot on its back and shoving it off the roof.

“Kind of a kid-ish thing to say,” Ephemer remarked, watching the Heartless float daintily to the ground.

Vanitas jumped back down. “I’m gonna ignore that.” He put a hand on the Darkball’s back, guiding it to the middle of the street. It moved a little in protest, trying to snap at the end of Ephemer’s scarf.

“You can do the first hit,” Ephemer said. “Since you’re new at this.”

“I’d be honored,” Vanitas said, steadying the Heartless in its spot. “Now, do your ten paces. I’m getting impatient.”

“Yessir,” Ephemer said, taking his paces away from the Heartless.

Vanitas stepped back and summoned his keyblade. “Ready?”

“Yup,” Ephemer chirped, readying his keyblade.

Vanitas lined up his shot, using the Darkball’s tendrils as a crosshair. Not taking his eyes off Ephemer, he took a running start and swung. The light hit on the Heartless sent it flying towards Ephemer, spinning lazily in its arc.

The game had begun.

Ephemer immediately made his move. Predicting the Heartless’ path, he moved his body out of its way and placed his keyblade there instead. It landed predictably on the blade, bouncing off and back toward Vanitas. The Heartless blinked at the hit, seeming shaken but not injured. Vanitas mirrored Ephemer’s technique, just as he always had. He watched the Heartless fly toward him, preparing to hit it back. When it collided with his blade, he gave it the slightest of pushes, hoping it would be enough to send it back unharmed. He couldn’t afford to lose a point by eliminating the Darkball in the first rally.

As the Heartless lurched away from Vanitas’ keyblade, it began to slow down in the air. Its trajectory began to shrink, and Vanitas made a tactical retreat. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to see that Ephemer was pursuing relentlessly, lining up a close-range shot right to Vanitas’ back. He made an attempt to dodge the invisible attack, but it was too late. The Darkball grazed the edge of his shoulder.

“Hit,” Vanitas said, looking back over to Ephemer. He was doing a victorious fist pump. Vanitas set his sights on the Darkball again. “I was just warming up.”

“Sure you were,” Ephemer said, distancing himself from the Heartless. Once again, Vanitas lined up his shot. With a moderate amount of strength, he risked damage to the Darkball to give Ephemer a run for his money. It flew over to Ephemer, who dodged it instinctively upon seeing its unusual speed. Fortunately for Vanitas, the Darkball gave a sudden thrash in the same direction Ephemer was going. It bounced off Ephemer, sailing to the ground about halfway between the players.

“Hit. Beginner’s luck,” Ephemer said, approaching the Heartless. Vanitas stepped back a few paces and poised himself for the incoming hit. Ephemer swung, Vanitas swung back, and the two rallied for several hits.

Little by little, that same gratitude Vanitas felt earlier began to inch back. What was he even grateful for? The time Ephemer was spending with him? Just Ephemer? Did he have the right to enjoy the presence of something so unattainable? Every swing of his keyblade felt simultaneously selfish and selfless.

“Aw, man,” Ephemer said, rebounding from his bad swing and watching the Heartless drift toward the ground. It became clear that one more hit would finish it off. He shook his head, knowingly constrained by the rule that prohibited hitting the Darkball out of turn.

“Go ahead,” Ephemer said, leaning on his keyblade. “Do the honors.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Vanitas said, swaggering up to the Darkball to give it one final blow. The darkness dissipated, and Vanitas gained a point from its timely demise.

“Good job, Vanitas,” Ephemer said, closing the distance between them. “You’ve got the right stuff for tag.”

“Glad you noticed,” Vanitas said, a well of greed rising within him.

“That was fun,” Ephemer remarked, “but we should be more serious now. Gotta get enough Lux, right?”

“Actually,” Vanitas blurted, “Let’s play another game.”

Ephemer smiled coyly, saying nothing.

“I… haven’t gotten it out of my system. Besides, we both know that Lux doesn't really matter.”

“Suit yourself,” Ephemer said, shrugging. “Let’s find another Darkball.”

It didn’t take long to do so. In fact, it didn't take long for that game to end and for another to begin. One game went to Ephemer, another to Vanitas. Games were swift, but they did the job that the keyblade wielders set out to do. Darkball Heartless became scarcer, and battles became fiercer. Over and over, Vanitas let himself be caught up in the thrill of competition and the hunger of personal desire. Time seemed to extend, even as the dusk hours lit the desert sky with a brilliant orange.

Their final game was neck-and-neck all the way throughout. As the two former masters clashed with their combined skill, the point tally remained consistently even. A single rally extended for several minutes, drawing each player closer and closer with every strike.

At that shorter range, Vanitas could see a flicker of exhaustion cross Ephemer’s face. This round would go to him, he was sure of it. He was one point ahead, and the Darkball looked to be on its last legs. He struck, then struck again when it rebounded from Ephemer’s keyblade. His opponent’s face was scrunched up in concentration, silver hair almost reaching over his eyes. He had a competitive fire about him, a firm determination to win.

For a split second, Vanitas lost focus. His last strike went sideways, just barely too weak to reach Ephemer. The Heartless skidded to a stop in the sand, leaving a small trail. No longer able to float, it lay there, motionless.

Ephemer gave a sporting smile. “Looks like this one’s a draw.”

“Yeah,” Vanitas said.

Ephemer took his time, pacing over to the weakened Heartless. “Good game, Vanitas. I almost had you there.” His eyes were fixed on Vanitas, but at his feet, the Heartless twitched. It pulled its face out of the sand, fixing its yellow, beady eyes on the closest target: Ephemer.

Vanitas didn’t even realize he was rushing to finish it off until he was right next to Ephemer, deflecting the Darkball’s malicious lunge.

The Heartless dissipated, and Vanitas looked up at Ephemer. He didn’t appear shocked. Rather, he wore a kind of smug grin.

“Gotcha.”

Vanitas lowered his keyblade and reflected on what he had done. By hitting the Darkball twice in a row, he had just deducted himself the point that would have drawn the game.

“Better luck next time, Vanitas!” Ephemer patted Vanitas on the shoulder. “You’re good, but not as good as the master.”

Vanitas couldn’t protest. He was simply defeated.

“Man, I’m exhausted!” Ephemer exclaimed as he stretched his arms into the air.

“Should we head back?” Vanitas said, feeling the effects of prolonged Darkball Tag himself.

Ephemer noted the position of the sun in the sky. “We’ve got an hour or so before we need to. We can take our time.”

“Oh, okay,” said Vanitas. His tiredness began to sink in, revealing deeper thoughts and feelings he couldn’t quite explain.

Ephemer looked at Vanitas, eyes sparkling the same way as always. “C’mon. I know a nice spot to sit down and rest.”

Vanitas gestured vaguely. “Lead the way, then.”

The spot in question was only a few stories up from the ground and only a few leaps up for a keyblade wielder, but the view of the city bathed in golden light was a sight to behold. The labyrinth of square stone rippled outwards like a sea of coarse sand, a grand palace shooting up in the center of it all. At the edge of the sky opposite the sun, the brightest stars cautiously made themselves visible.

Vanitas recognized none of it. But that didn’t matter, not that evening. The one thing he did recognize was the most important, the most precious, the object of greed and of jealousy and of comfort and beauty.

Ephemer sat at the edge of the building, legs dangling over the street below. “Nice, isn’t it? Ventus and I come here all the time.”

No memory of that existed in Vanitas’ mind.

“Yeah. It’s nice.” Vanitas took a seat next to Ephemer, his muscles aching almost as much as his heart.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

“Vanitas?” Ephemer asked suddenly. He was not looking at Vanitas.

“What is it?”

Ephemer visibly took a deep breath. “Listen. You… like me, don’t you?”

“What? What do you mean?” Vanitas felt his chest swell, and he fought to keep it down.

Ephemer smiled sadly. “You’re a worse liar than you think. I’ve seen the way you act.  _ He _ did the same things you’re doing.”

Vanitas could have said a thousand things, but only one word came to his lips. “Ventus.”

“Yeah.”

Vanitas wrestled with his own desperation, trying not to let it show. “But… aren’t you just friends?”

Ephemer slowly shook his head. “There’s more.” He leaned back to look at the cloudless sky. “We haven’t gotten anywhere yet, but… the feeling is real.”

As the night fell, Vanitas was harshly reminded of the difference between him and his old self. The contrast between the two was a bottomless chasm. One that divided light and darkness, love and war, Vanitas and Ephemer.

“I  _ like _ you, Vanitas,” Ephemer continued. “I really do.”

“... But?” Vanitas muttered.

“Don’t say it like that,” Ephemer said. “Love isn’t better than friendship. It’s just… different.”

Vanitas scoffed. “Yeah. And you have more of both for Ventus.”

Ephemer’s expression plunged into a heart-wrenching sadness. “I’m really not doing a good job, am I?”

Vanitas didn’t reply. Ephemer sighed.

“I’m just glad he isn’t here to see me,” Ephemer mused.

Vanitas looked up questioningly.

Ephemer took the cue and continued his thought. “It’s just… he thinks I’m perfect. If he saw me like this, it’d break his heart. And… that would break my heart.”

“That you’re rejecting me? As if.”

Ephemer looked away. “I’ve been leading you on, Vanitas. Even if you wanted to be friends, I…”

Vanitas could have finished that sentence himself.  _ I would leave tomorrow anyway. _

“I’m sorry,” Ephemer said instead.

Vanitas just sat in silence.

Ephemer’s shoulders slumped as he looked back at his darkness-clad companion. He looked at his own hand, then at Vanitas. Slowly, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around Vanitas.

Ephemer paused, in case Vanitas reacted. “I hope this is enough.”

Vanitas leaned in closer.

Ephemer felt as if his prediction of Vanitas’ age was correct. “I can’t ask you to forget me. So instead, remember me. But please don’t hurt because of it.”

Vanitas shifted.

“You say that like it’s easy.”

The night grew cold, and the darkness grew. It was a new moon in Agrabah that night. There were no residents to view it, nor a familiar street to follow home in the absence of light. Although the darkness was ever silent, it was ever present.

Deep down inside, Vanitas knew he had failed.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this, you're probably a starving vanphemer shipper. Guess what! I'm one of you now! Great!  
> If y'all are hungry enough... I might just keep writing chapters until I tell a whole story. Let me know if you liked it!


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